Batgirl:Genesis
by xOraclex
Summary: 15 year old Barbara Gordon finds motivation to become someone she didn't expect. An original fanfiction by xOraclex, this is a different-from-tradition story of how Gotham's favorite female crime-fighter came to be. Parings: Barbara/Dick.
1. PROLOUGE

PROLOUGE

_Dear Journal,_

_Another night without Dad._

_He left a note: __**Hey Barb, gotta work late again. Frozen pizza in oven. I love you, Dad.**_

The pizza laid half eaten next to 15 year old Barbara Gordon, completely cold. The cheese on the pizza that had once been warm and gooey was crusting over, looking like yellow rubber. She wished that he had been there to share it with her. Supper is miserable no matter how good the food when you're alone.

_I never really see him anymore. His new position as Commissioner leaves him on the job 24/7, with me left in the dust. _

_They really aren't kidding when they say a policeman is married to his badge._

Barbara looked up at the clock. 11:15. She really should have been in bed, it was a school night, but she had decided to wait until her Dad came home. She wanted to talk to him.

_I really miss him. It's like I'm in a room full of people, but I feel so alone. _

She brushed a strand of straight red hair out of her eyes.

_At school, no one understands me. I have friends, of course, but none of them are close to me. None of them can feel what I feel. High School is so much different than middle school. More classes. More people. Harder homework. I hate it. _

The pen scratched at the notebook, but no matter how many words she wrote, none of them could express her loneliness.

The clock read 11:20. It was late, and she was tired. _It's about time I turn in; I guess I'll talk to him tomorrow._

Just as she got up, there came a knock at the door. At first, her heart gave a leap, thinking it was her father. _Why would he knock?_

The knocking started again, startling her, and she quickly walked to the door, looking through the peephole. She spoke through the intercom. "Yes?"

On the other side of the door stood a policeman, of whom she recognized from Gotham PD as Captain John White; the other she didn't recognize and he simply looked straight ahead.

"I'm Captain White, and this is agent McCallister." The man showed her his credentials, up close to his face, and said in a stern voice, "May we come in?"

"Of course." She pulled the chain off, unlocked the door and led them in, inviting them to sit at the table with her.

"What's this about?"

The Captain cleared his throat nervously. "We're sorry to awake you."

"No trouble." She said, smiling softly. "I was still up anyway, waiting for my father."

"I'm afraid we have some bad news."

Barbara's heart stopped cold. "What?"

"It's your father. " He looked down.

Agent McCallister stated flatly, "Your father is missing and is presumed dead."

Barbara felt the tears coming.

"Dead?"

**The return of Oracle! -cheers- I bet you're all wondering where I've been for about a year.**

**I missed my batman fanfictions, and decided to write another one this summer. Sorry I've been on hiatus again with ; I've been busy with my website. The idea of this story happened when I saw **_**The Dark Knight**_** in theatres. **

**That movie is flat-out amazing.**

**Plus, like I said, I missed writing Batman fanfictions. (:**

**I'm hoping this will be my best fic yet. I've really grown out of the lubby-dubby feeling and really got serious with my writing. **

**Look for the next chapter, coming soon.**

**Oh yeah, and like all others, this fic has lots of BGXR goodness. ;)**

**Please also leave me a review on your thoughts. **

**Thank you all, Oracle **


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

"Commissioner Gordon will be greatly missed."

It was a partly cloudy day on Main Street, Gotham. The mayor was finishing up his farewell speech, but Barbara barely heard him. She clutched her black purse with a killer grip, looking down at the ground. Tears were frozen on her face, unable to move, and yet she couldn't swipe them away.

Agent McCallister turned his head toward her for a moment, then back to the mayor and his speech. On her other side of her, Captain White also listened.

Barbara was amazed at how many people had showed up to the memorial service. So many citizens came to pay their final respects.

The mayor droned on as a solemn procession of uniformed police officers escorted a rider-less horse. They then stood in attention.

Across the stage, a well-recognized citizen, the billionaire Bruce Wayne, looked solemnly at the Mayor as he spoke. Next to him, a boy Barbara assumed to be close to her age was staring at his hands. He looked up, and gave her a shy grin. Embarrassed, Barbara quickly looked down.

Memories of the past night flooded her thoughts.

--

"_Dead? How? When?"_

"_Terrorists, the mob – pick one. We're not sure yet."_

_Barbara was too stunned to do anything but feel helpless. "Where was he?"  
"He was meeting with the District Attorney over lunch, concerned about crime activities. They weren't certain about what to do with the rising organized crime in Gotham. The FBI Special Agent is charge was also at the table. The three enemies at one table was too much temptation. They took down the entire building, which makes us lean towards terrorists. We recovered the bodies of the DA and the SAIC, but your father's body was not found. The building was completely destroyed and was burned. Witnesses at the scene saw no one escape."_

--

_No one escaped. No one escaped. No one escaped. _The words echoed over and over in her mind.

"He was a great man. Not only as our leader in this city, but as a father. He leaves behind a young daughter."

She could feel her heat rising as everyone's eyes turned to her. When she looked up, she saw Bruce Wayne. In his eyes, she did not see pity. He was serious, and warm. And yet she felt pitiful.

_Who did this? Who did this to me?_ Barbara was angry that she was in this situation. _Dad, how could you leave me here like this? I'm so alone._

There wasn't even a body to bury. At least with a body, there was closure, not like this. There was no reassurance that her father was really gone.

_He can't be dead. Maybe he'll come back. I'll find him someday._

_Who am I kidding? I'm not a kid anymore. I can't believe I lost total control of my life._

_Who did this? Who did this to us, Dad? _

"Miss Gordon, it's time to go to the reception area." It was Captain White, softly nudging her. She looked at him and nodded. _I don't want to do this! I just want to go home and wish this never happened._

The agent and Captain escorted her over the podium the mayor was at a few minutes ago.

"Oh how awful!"

"I'm so sorry."

"You poor thing!"

All of the people coming up to her were a blur. None of them gave her any comfort; it only made her feel worst.

And then she saw him.

He came up with Bruce Wayne; the boy that had smiled shyly at her during the mayor's speech.

"Captain White." Wayne gave the captain and the agent firm handshakes. He then went up to Barbara, placing his hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry. He was a good man, your father, and a good friend." After she gave no response, he nodded, and walked away.

It was then that the boy came up. He only nodded at Captain White and Agent McCallister, and seemed to go straight up to Barbara. It was then that his eyes locked with hers.

His eyes were soft, and kind. She wanted to look away, but she didn't. His eyes, which were green, had a sparkle in them that drew her in.

This seemingly shy boy had grown intense with eye contact and said, "I know what you're feeling, Barbara, and I'm sorry."

For the first time today, she wanted to say something, but couldn't. Words wouldn't come, but she desperately didn't want him to go. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear,

"I'm sorry." And he placed his hand on the small of her back.

She found this quite odd, but strangely comforting. He looked once more in her eyes, and then walked away.

And she had never felt so alone.

She now just wanted to escape.

She looked out at the crowd of people, and knew it would be hours before she could really grieve. _No one escaped…_

Suddenly, glass shattered in every building around them.

Main Street began to shudder.

People began to run in every direction. It happened so fast, Barbara thought it was a dream.

Out of nowhere, Captain White threw his arms around her in protection as a shower of glass hit the stage. And the next thing she knew, she was moving.

--

Bruce Wayne touched his watch with his right hand. "Alfred, checkpoint A. Two minutes."

"Right away, Sir."

Dick Grayson looked up at Bruce with direction. "Well?"

"Is it secure?" Wayne asked.

"Absolutely." Dick answered.

"Watch the girl." Then he ran off into the crowd.

--

Barbara had a weird feeling that she was being carried away. She noticed the direction they were headed: the Gotham Subway.

"Where are we going?" _What's going on?_

There was a moment when his grip on her shoulders relaxed, but Captain White said nothing.

When she looked up, it wasn't Captain White.

Barbara began to panic. _Everyone's screaming all around me! What good will it do?_

--

Dick watched as Captain White took Barbara into the Subway, and quickly followed. People were everywhere; it was a struggle to follow them. When he finally made it to the subway, he nearly tripped over a body.

It was a man, lying prone in the middle of the landing. He knew he'd better pull him out of there, or he could be trampled to death. He grabbed the man under the arms and pulled him to the wall. It was then that he noticed the uniform.

It was Captain John White, with his hat missing, and a big, nasty bump on the back of his head. He moaned in pain.

Dick instantly looked up, to see what had become of Barbara, but she was gone.

**This chapter was re-submitted with all the grammar and spelling mistakes fixed. :)**

**Sorry to leave you in suspense. I do that quite often, don't I?**

**Next chapter coming soon; it is currently being written. Please review, and thank you for reading!**

**Oracle**


	3. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Dick knew now that there was nothing to be done but take care of Captain White, learn what he knew, and find Batman.

"Sir?"

The Captain only moaned louder.

"Did you see them?"

Captain White looked dazed. "See…who?"

"Where's the girl?" Dick yelled, as he grabbed the Captain by the lapels of his dress uniform.

"I don't…know. They got me from behind. I wanted to get her off the street." He mumbled.

Dick released him, and fought the crowd to get out of the subway. _Bruce was right after all! I knew this was a bad idea…_

He headed down the alley where his motorcycle was stashed. With no one looking, he stripped his clothes to reveal his Robin costume underneath.

"Status?" Came the scratchy voice on his watch.

"I lost her. They got away. "

"Did you see them?"

"No. They were gone before I had a chance to get near her. They took her underground, so the transmitter may not work." He started up the motorcycle and sped off.

"Yeah, I don't see her signal. We can track her at the cave. See you there."

--

Barbara's breathing quickened. _Don't panic. It won't do any good; who knows what they'll do to me? _She looked up again at the man leading her away from the safety of Captain White. He was wearing a strange clown mask to cover his face. Barbara struggled, not able to ignore her panicking. "Let me go!" She tried to break loose, but the man's grip was too strong. As her last resort, she screamed for help 

until the man finally shoved his hand over her mouth for her to stop. His hand was pressed so hard, she could hardly breathe.

With a yelp, Barbara was pushed into a car parked at the end of the subway. _Wait, why is there a car in the subway? _As soon as the man closed the door behind her, she tried to open the door, but it was locked. She tried the other door, with no success. She pounded on the window, hoping _someone_ would hear her. She even tried to kick out the window, but it was too solid.

"Don't bother…_sweetheart._ You're locked in." It was someone in the front seat, she couldn't tell if it was the driver or passenger riding shotgun. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why? '_Why' she asks?_ "The passenger let out a laugh, sinister, mocking…familiar.

"Who are you?"

"Who am I?" The voice cocked his head to the side, and turned around.

And Barbara was face to face with The Joker.

"I'm your worst nightmare!" His laugh echoed down Gotham Subway as the car sped off into the darkness.

--

THE BATCAVE, WAYNE MANOR

"Why didn't we go with _my _plan? Barbara would have been safe with us! Not kidnapped!"

Dick Grayson, still dressed in his Robin costume, was furiously pacing behind Bruce, who was at the bat-computer.

"I had a feeling that whoever was behind the attack on her dad would also go after her. Are you sure it's secure?"

"Of course it is! It's on her back. And I guess you're right. But I feel weird letting her get kidnapped like that. It's not right."

Bruce turned, an eyebrow raised, to stare at the boy. "You—" Then he turned, looked back at his computer, muttering, "Hmmmph."

Dick was silent for a moment, and then sighed. "That wasn't the first time I met her. I'm surprised she didn't recognize me at the memorial service."

"Oh. Tell me about it."

"We met when we were twelve. You know, the age when girls are still gross. At least, I thought they were."

Bruce chuckled. "Mmhm."

"That was back before my parents…well, you know. We met for dinner at the Gordon's after a show that night. The grown-ups didn't tell us what it was all about, but now I suspect it was with Tony Zucco, a member of the Mafia, and how much danger my parents were in."

Bruce listened intently.

"I didn't really like her back then. She was really nervous, and talkative. Which is weird, since she's so shy and soft now, not the bold type like she was. But I guess you have her father's death to blame for that."

Dick sighed. "I remember them both as if they were yesterday."

--

"_Do we really have to go?" whined twelve year old Dick Grayson, to his parents. They were heading down the hallway to the Gordon apartment to meet with Commissioner Gordon for dinner._

"_How come I gotta be with that…__**girl**__?"_

"_The Commissioner invited us for dinner. And his daughter seems like a very nice girl. You might have fun! So don't be rude." said his mother, smiling down at him._

_Dick rolled his eyes and sighed. "Right."_

_Of__** course**__ he remembered her. Only a mother would call hanging out with Barbara Gordon "fun". The girl was a total flirt, the bubbly, won't-shut-up kind. She would never leave him alone tonight, which was why Dick was already dreading it._

_His father frowned at him. "Be nice." They were at the door now, knocking. The door opened a few moments later._

"_John, Mary! Good of you to come! And you, young man. Welcome." Commissioner Gordon waved them in._

_As his parents started to make small talk, Dick looked around. The apartment was small, but very homey. To his relief, Barbara was nowhere to be seen. That is, until a door down their hallway opened._

_And there she was: Miss Bubbly. She looked just like any other twelve year old girl: pink._

_She smiled when she saw him. "Hey Dick!" Dick felt like melting into a puddle right then and there. "Uh, hi." He answered back, his cheeks strangely turning red._

"_How are you?"_

"_Uhh…fine."_

"_Oh, that's great! You know, you did really well in the performance today. It must be scary being up so high all the time." She gushed. _

"_You know, I'm something of an acrobat myself. Well, I take gymnastics. It's so much fun, but probably not as exciting as swinging on a trapeze. So you actually get paid to swing around up there? That's so cool!"_

"_Right." Dick looked up at his parents for support, but they were still talking to the Commissioner. _

"_So have you been an acrobat __**all **__your life? That must be hard. Did you grow up at the circus? What an interesting life!"_

_**This girl never shuts up!**__ Dick tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. _

"_The dinner's ready already, straight out of the oven." Commissioner Gordon announced to everyone. He turned to Barbara, "Will you get the roast out of the kitchen, please?"_

_Barbara nodded, and headed off to their small kitchen. Dick heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank God."_

_As his parents went to sit down at the table, the Commissioner smiled at Dick. "She's quite something, isn't she? Sorry if she talks your ear off. She does that all the time."_

"_Oh."_

_Dinner was good, but all Dick did was stare at his plate. Every time he looked up, he saw out of the corner of his eye that Barbara was looking at him intently. This action made him feel miserably uncomfortable. _

--

"Robin."

"Huh?" Dick was jolted of his daydream and back into present time.

"We gotta go."

"Where?"

**Next chapter coming soon! Please keep the reviews coming.**

**Oracle**


	4. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Barbara was jolted awake. _When did I fall asleep?_ She couldn't see anything. It was then that she realized she was blindfolded. She struggled, but her hands were tied over her head. The ground where she laid down was damp, and freezing like ice. She struggled to get up on her feet.

"Hello?!" Her voice echoed, but nothing else could be heard.

"Ah! Sleeping Beauty awakes! Why don't you stand up my dear?" came a voice. In an instant, she was jerked up by her arms, and swinging in the air. She screamed, first in pain, then for the fact that she couldn't feel the ground!

"Whoops! Ah, nothing like a good _stretch_ in the morning!" She was lowered to the ground until she felt it below her feet.

"Oh! Still a little dark? How's the head? Still spinning, are we?" In one swift movement, the blindfold was ripped off. It was still pitch dark.

"Would you like a little light?" A match was lit, right below the speakers head.

What Barbara saw was unlike any nightmare she could ever dream.

The face was white, like a pale, sickly snow. The eyes were encircled with dark, black shadows that ran from his eyebrows to his lower eyelids. A bloody, deep red line ran from cheekbone to cheekbone, growing redder and fouler at his lips. Along the sides of his mouth were slashes and deep cuts that extended to his cheeks, almost as if he had chewed on a knife. His wicked smile of yellow teeth and foul breath frightened Barbara the most.

She couldn't tell if it was even a face, or a mask. He looked like a phantom.

His face was just inches from hers. She could feel the heat from the match.

"What are you going to do with me?" Barbara said, frightened.

"Oh, my dear! A very good question, yes! But the wrong one. It is not _what will_ we do with you, it's _what have _we _done to_ you?"

It was then that Barbara noticed she wasn't wearing her black dress from the memorial service. She was now wearing a scratchy, green jumpsuit. The Joker smiled. "I almost forgot to add the ornament to my Christmas tree!" And with that, he put the tracking device that Dick had put on Barbara's back in her jumpsuit pocket. Barbara was too stunned to do anything, _couldn't_ do anything with her hands tied above her head.

"Why so…_serious_?" He reached out and grabbed her by the chin, a hard, tight grip.

When Barbara didn't answer, he smiled. "Did you like my cocktail? Was it enjoyable? There's nothing like a nap in the middle of the day! Why don't you have another?" He blew out the match right in her face with his rancid breath, sending the foul smell of smoke into her nostrils. There was a odor in the smoke that she didn't recognize—like a mixture of garbage and rotten eggs.

Almost right away, she felt dizzy. The world swerved around her, and her vision doubled. Her eyes began to droop, and her knees sagged.

"I think you'll enjoy this fancy cocktail. You're a little…young, but _Daddy's not around_. I don't think he'd mind. Oh! Daddy!"

He lit another match. In Barbara's vision, she saw eight matches, eight little lights. The Joker then held up 8 pictures of her father. Held below the very small right corner of the picture, in his other hand he held the match. It was only seconds before the picture was fully engulfed in flames. Her vision became a kaleidoscope of the image of her father burning. A scream formed in her throat, but the only sound she heard was the echoing of disembodied laughter.

For a second, Barbara, still hallucinating over the burning picture, saw a bright, white flash.

And then all was darkness.

--

"WHAT are we DOING here?" said Dick through clenched teeth.

Bruce and Dick were in Bruce's private quarters in the manor. "I _have_ to go to my _own_ birthday party. Did you forget?" said Bruce as he straightened Dick's bowtie in a fatherly way for the third time. As soon as he turned away, Dick un-straightened it – for the third time. "This is completely insane!" yelled Dick. "Saving Barbara is way more important than your little birthday party!"

Bruce combed his own hair. "Really? And who knows that she's missing? We can't do anything more until her signal comes back online."

"I know I can do something!" Dick shot back. "If you'd only just let me go out on my own—"

"Hold still." Bruce came up to Dick and combed his hair back. When he was done, Dick messed it up again. "I don't need to look more like a dweeb then I already do!"

Bruce chuckled. "You're not a dweeb. Now let's get down there."

Dick huffed, his arms crossed, "Whatever." and headed out the door. Bruce followed him. As they went down the stairs, they could hear all of the guests.

"Now please stay focused and don't look like you're not enjoying yourself." said Bruce.

"HOW can I stay focused when Barbara is out there somewhere needing our help?"

"Don't worry, Alfred's got it covered."

**LATER**

Dick starred at his plate of uneaten food and picked around with his fork.

The entire company of guests was sitting at the long, narrow table in the manor's dining room. Bruce, who was at the head of the table, was chatting pleasantly with the women on his left.

Dick, who was sitting at his right, was not so lucky.

The incessant jabbering of the women next to him who was barely contained in the chair, and was continually encroaching on his personal space, was not only keeping him un-focused, but made him think continually of Barbara.

"It's horrible, just horrible!" The women's perfume was only slightly less overpowering than the odor it was suppose to mask. "Just think of that poor Gordon girl loosing her father! Dreadful!"

_If only I could __**stop **__thinking about her!_ Though Dick as he stabbed a grape tomato with his fork. He stabbed it with a little too much force. It sprayed the lady on her bulbous, powdered nose.

The lady rumbled in her chair, and exclaimed, "Oooh!"

And for the first time that evening, there was silence at the table.

Dick looked up, surprised to see EVERYONE at the table staring at him. He looked over at the women, who had a shocked look on her face as red, seedy goo was about to slide off her nose.

Turning as red as the tomato, Dick instinctively reached up with his napkin to clean up his mess, muttering, "I'm so sorry!" as he did it. The women's nose now had a smear of powder and red ooze, which the more he rubbed, the more he messed it up.

"Oh! OH! O MY! It's ok, please stop. STOP!" said the women as Dick puttered with his napkin. He pulled away as the women reached for her purse, excused herself, rolled out of the chair, and waddled to the restroom.

The entire table was still silent as Dick stood there, napkin in hand, with wide eyes. He dared to look over at Bruce… Who was stifling a laugh.

Dick cleared his throat nervously. "May I be excused too?"

Bruce nodded. As soon as he did so, Dick pushed in his chair, left the napkin on his plate, and dashed to the stairs to the sounds of constrained laughter.

He got to his room and slammed the door. _How embarrassing! _It was only a few moments later that the door opened again.

"Master Dick, I have some information that might brighten your spirits. The Mistress Barbara's signal has come online."

Dick heaved a sigh. "Finally! Have you told Bruce?"

Alfred nodded. "I have privately informed him, and he is awaiting you in the Batcave."

"Thanks Al." Dick gave him a pat on the shoulder as he left the room.


	5. Chapter 4

Barbara shivered.

For the past hour, she had been drifting in and out of consciousness. Her sides ached. She had tried to stop the uncontrollable giggles, and they had turned into a mix of hiccups, shivers, and sudden bursts of laughs. She barely had time to breathe. Her arms felt like jelly from being tied above her head for so long. Her lips were so dry, she couldn't even make them move to form words. _Help…someone!_

A kind of darkness continued to surround her. She drifted in and out of the surreal consciousness with the piercing pains in her entire body. Her arms and shoulders, chest, legs, joints all screamed. At times she was separated and alouf from her body – able to analyze the depths of what had happened to her – the memories of the memorial, the shock of the explosion, being swept away to the subway, and the words of the fiend whose torture she was now enduring.

She was frightened. She has always hated the dark as a child. Not knowing what was out there, what was coming for her. The feeling that an unknown someone was near her, watching her every move.

A sharp pang of pain hit her stomach. The toxin Joker had in the match drew her back into the present and into her own body.

She was sure that once again, she would drift off to unconsciousness, but this time it was different. The pain stayed. It was long and drawn out, seeming to drift within her body. She wished it would stop. Her knees sagged as they had before, and yet she became fully aware of her agony.

She tried to concentrate, at least as much as she could. She willed her eyes to close.

When she opened them, she saw the picture of her father burning again. She looked hastily to her right. The face of Joker with his match was inches from her face. Was he really there? Or was it her mind playing a memory? Or was it her imagination? Was she really here, in this torture? Every time she screamed, her sides would compress and ache.

She seemed to be floating inside and outside of her body. Aware, and then unsure of what was real.

Images of all her fears and nightmares from her childhood flooded back to her. They were so visual and real that she could feel them. See them. Echoing images floating around her.

She was on a high bridge over a gorge and cars were whooshing past her and she lost her balance as one came at her with incredible speed. The impact was like a punch to her belly and the pain pushed the air from her lungs.

She was suddenly at the edge being pushed from behind – as she twisted in the wind, she could see the face of a bully who had stolen her lunch money in first grade – he was laughing hysterically and waving the coins in his hand in front of her face… somehow falling with her. She turned and she could see the ground coming up fast where there were spear-like spikes ready to impale her.

She was lying on her bed next to the window in her child hood home when a knife-welding arm reached in and stabbed her in the back. She lurched forward.

"You're just a STUPID Girrrrrrelll!" She was at school in the gym, surrounded by boys and girls in their gym uniforms who were ridiculing her and pointing at her. She was alone and hung her head, though she could not imagine a reason for the shame she felt.

She could see her mother holding her brother's hand walking out of her life – the incredible sadness on her father's face and her own sobs that seemed to travel through her entire body from her knees to her mouth. And echoing sounds of laughter filled the warehouse, as she cried out in despair.

She was under water gasping for air and unable to move her legs or arms, beginning to see a strange light from above the surface. But she couldn't get there no matter how much she struggled. The gurgling in her mouth suddenly felt completely dry as if she had inhaled a cloud of dust.

She choked and screamed.

--

Robin's head darted around. "What was that? It sounded like laughter."

Batman's eyes narrowed as he pulled away from his night-vision binoculars. The old, abandoned warehouse stood on the outskirts of Gotham. Robin and Batman stood on the roof of the building near to it, searching for movement in the area. "It's our damsel in distress. Her signal is coming from dead center of that warehouse, and I'm guessing that was her cry for help." He turned back to his binoculars. "I'm sensing this is a trap. I'll go in low. You take the roof."

Robin nodded. Batman nodded back, and then launched a grappling hook at the closest electrical tower, avoiding the energized cables, and leaped from the roof.

--

Batman swung over to the warehouse gracefully on the Bat-line, crashing feet first through a window. All was dark except for the pale moonlight reflecting from the shards of glass on the musty tongue-and-groove wooden floor. _They don't' make them like this anymore_, he mused.

Searching in his utility belt, Batman unstrapped the line, and clipped a mini-light to his left wrist band, turned it on, and began searching around.

There were boxes and cobwebs everywhere. An old assembly line stood motionless in the middle of the rubble. And right in the center of the building, yards from him, was Barbara. What he saw sickened him. _I can't believe they would do this to a kid._

--

It was an apparition.

It was black – just barely visible in the darkness, but moving steadily toward her.

_Did I see it? Or did I imagine it? _wondered Barbara. She was in one of those moments of lucidity, but she was exhausted from the struggle to control her mind.

Suddenly, the sound of a man's voice echoed all around her. "Barbara?"

She screamed when she saw the huge Bat approach.

--

Batman came face to face with her as he shined his light above her and up the cable quickly.

Her hair and face were dripping with sweat. Her skin, which was probably once fair and smooth, was pocked and pale. Her breathing was short and quick, like she was panting in pain.

He scanned the room to see if anyone else had noticed he was there, but he saw nothing. In his peripheral vision, he saw a small, red light. Again, he tapped his wrist."Alfred, trace all signals coming out of this building." "Acknowledged." Alfred answered back. He examined her eyes with his light. "Mhmm." He muttered to himself. Her pupils were dilated and unresponsive. She began to scream as he touched her face lightly. Again, it came out as a cackling laugh.

Only one person could have drugged her like this: Joker.

Batman kept a small can of Joker Gas antidote spray in is utility belt for these kinds of situations. He pulled it out, and lightly misted Barbara's face.

It would be a while before she would fully recover.

He examined the cables around her wrists. As he reached for his utility belt, he heard a slight click. And before he could react, he found himself falling. He instinctively tried to fire his grappling hook, but it was already spent. He landed about 12 feet below the floor with a thud, and rolled to lessen the impact.

"Oh! Is there a BAT in my TRAP?" came a voice. "All it takes is the right bait. To catch boys the proper bait is a _girl_! Get him boys!"

--

Robin made his way to a skylight in the roof. The cackling laugh of Joker echoed through the building. _That can't be good. _He thought.

He peered through the skylight, trying to find a way in. It was a long way down. The ceiling was spanned with girders and sheet metal, insolated with silver-wrapped fiberglass. Searching, he saw in the center of the building, almost right below him, someone _hanging_ by their hands, head drooped. And below her, a hole with an erratic light.

_Barbara._

--

Barbara was no longer seeing double, as her head began to clear. She felt dazed, but in a good way. Memories flooded back to her. Before the memorial service…she met with her father's lawyer…

"_We're having trouble finding your next guardian." The lawyer explained. "Your father's will stated that you are to stay with your aunt, but she passed away some time ago. Since there are no other listed guardians, we'll have to place you in a foster home. I will contact you when we've found a family for you. Meanwhile, you'll be in protective custody."_

At the memorial service…meeting that strangely familiar boy…

"_I know what you're feeling Barbara. And I'm sorry."_

--

Robin quickly examined the glass on the skylight. It looked thin enough that he could punch through it enough to shatter it.

He pulled his arm back, and punched the glass as hard as he could. The glass did indeed shatter. He took a tool out of his utility belt and cleaned out the right edge so he could grip without cutting himself on the way down.

He lowered himself through, swinging his legs to land on the girder closest to him. His life as an acrobat made his balance superb and his fear of heights miniscule. Hanging on a girder, he traveled hand over hand, and then kipped from girder to girder until he was over the cable in the center of the building.

The cable was tied off on a vertical beam to his left. Barbara hung below him. He examined the bolts holding the pulley to the girder with his wrist-lamp. _It looks solid enough_.

He took the cable that was descending to his left, and as he shimmied down, Barbara began to rise.

_Shoot!_ He began to swing towards the center as Barbara rose. Just as Barbara came near him, he reached out and grabbed her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her toward him.

His face was inches from hers.

--

She remembered his eyes. They were so green, so bright and full of kindness, that they were real. She felt like she was actually seeing them. Suddenly, she felt herself rising. The pull on her shoulders and wrists intensified.

She thought she was seeing those eyes. Maybe she really was…

--

Robin felt as strange as he did when he put the transmitter on Barbara's back. Her eyes slowly opened.

For a second, both of them were speechless.

"Hi." He managed to stutter out, partly because he was struggling to hold onto her and the rope at the same time, and partly for the fact that he was completely befuddled at the moment.

"Hi." She answered back, smiling slightly. His grip on her waist tightened. "Listen, um." He cleared his throat nervously. "I need you to wrap your legs around my waist."

"WHAT?!"

"Just do it, and trust me!"

His grip loosened on the rope, and they fell a foot down. Robin winced in pain. Even though his hands were gloved, the rope burned into his skin and the weight almost pulled his shoulder out of its socket.

"You may want to do that…NOW!"

She complied, and locked her ankles around his middle. He let go of her waist and began to pull them, hand over hand, toward the wall-beam, every bit a huge effort. When he was satisfied, with their distance from the wall, he looked at her and said, "Hold on…VERY tight and don't look." He reached for his belt, pulled a clamp of some sort with a handle, and attached it to the cable. Then he took out a small instrument of some sort. She couldn't help but look. It produced a red light, and began to cut through the cable.

"WHAT are you DOING?!"

"Trust me." When the cable snapped, they began to swing like a pendulum toward the center of the room where the hole was, Barbara screaming the word "Dooooooooing" all the way. In flight, he put the instrument in his mouth, turned and wrapped his left arm around her in a bear hug, all the while holding the handle clamped to the end of the cable in his right hand. "Let go", he said, and she unhooked her ankles, her legs still just over his hips. Robin waited for just the right moment at the apex of the swing to let go of the handle. He twisted his body so that he would be between her and the floor when his feet would hit, which they did with a thud. The landing was somewhat less elegant than he would have been able to accomplish alone, and was painful as his backside slammed into the floor – not quite the same as the net he would land in at the circus.

"Oof!" came from Robin involuntarily, as all Barbara's weight compressed his stomach.

--

Barbara looked around. _Where is he?_ She tried to get up, her hands still clamped and arms aching. She collapsed in pain.

A muffled "Oof!" came from beneath her, and then she found him.

She shimmed backwards, arms still over her head, and above his head. And once again, she was face to face with a mask, and eye to eye with those green eyes.

She caught her breath, for he was looking right at her. He grunted in pain, spit out the instrument, which rolled beside his head and said, "That landing was not exactly according to plan…Could you get off…please?" He moaned. Barbara hastily rolled off him, surprised that she had fallen right on top of him. He took in a gulp of air, coughing loudly. She realized she had knocked the air right out of him when they landed.

"Thank you…" was all she managed to say. Her shoulders hurt like crazy, and her hands were still attached to the cable. When Robin had collected himself, he took the tool and rolled over to her. "Close your eyes." She heard a little hum as he cut the cable above her wrists. "We have to get you to a doctor. Can you stand?"

"I thing so." She tried, but fell back down on her behind. The adrenalin was finally depleted. Helping her, Robin got her to her feet.

But she completely lost it -- Her legs gave way under her, turning to jelly from the long ordeal. Her arms felt weak too, but were on fire with pain shooting from wrists to the shoulders. "Whoa!" Robin caught her by her waist again, trying to release her hands. He finally cut the catch between her hands and got her arms free which then dropped, and had to hug her to keep her upright. He lowered her and cradled her with his left arm. Her hands were numb, but starting to tingle. It was the first time she had felt them, in a long time. "Here drink this." The cool water trickled down her neck as she greedily took it in. "Woah, slow down…" He removed his gloves and rubbed her wrists with his bare hands.

"I see you two have met." Batman smirked.

"Where'd you come from?"

"It doesn't matter. We gotta get out of here…NOW."

The voice on the loudspeaker came again. "Oh! Another foiled capture attempt! You spoil everything! Since when do you have the side kick? No matter. So long, Batsy! Until next _crime_!"

"Come on." said Batman. He took Barbara's wrists in his hands, flipped her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and headed for the window through which he had entered.

--

Barbara felt herself being lifted, when her shoulders again screamed with pain. When she opened her tear-filled eyes again, she could see that Batman was carrying her. She began to softly cry.

"You're going to be alright, Barbara."

The total physical and mental exhaustion had taken its toll, and she felt herself falling asleep. The last thing she thought was…_How does he know my name?_

--

"Alfred, did you get anything?"

"I'm sorry sir, the transmission ended abruptly. But I have several locations you may want check out."

"Good."

**Whew, this chapter was really hard to describe. I hope no one got lost. :) My editor (my father) and I had to actually make a visual with two pens and a piece of string to help describe the "rescue scene" well enough. I'm really happy how it turned out! My editor has been helping me so much, and I thank him for that.**

**Next chapter soon; I'll keep you posted. Meanwhile, please leave a review on your thoughts!**

**Oracle  
**


	6. Chapter 5

Barbara felt and saw a light.

Her eyes popped open. _Where am I?_ Looking around, she saw that she was in a hospital room.

"The Bruce Wayne Wing" was painted in cursive outside her door on the wall. The room looked quite comfortable. She was no longer wearing that scratchy green jumpsuit, but rather, a breezy hospital gown that went down just above her knees.

"You're finally awake."

She looked to her left, to where the voice came from.

Over on the side, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, was him, the boy she had seen before.

"Its…_you_." Barbara was surprised to see _him_ here. "Isn't it, though?" the boy flashed a smile and got up from the chair he was sitting at, and came up beside her bed. "We've met, but I am not sure you remember me." He stuck out his right hand. "Dick Grayson."

Suddenly, Barbara really did remember him. "It _is_ you!" She hugged him, taking him by surprise. "I haven't seen you since we were 12!" Dick, who was surprised by her boldness, hugged her back. "Yeah, I know. It's good to see you again Barbara."

Barbara was amused to find out that the boy at the memorial service was Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson! He looked so different to her!

"I brought you some clothes, because you have already been released."

"Huh?" Barbara was forced out of her thoughts and back into the present time. "Oh. Thanks! I was beginning to worry I would have to wear this, ehemm… gown all day."

She took the clothes, and got out of bed, and stopped, looking at Dick.

"Oh, I guess you want me to leave now." He laughed nervously. "I'll um, wait outside with the policeman."

"Policeman?"

"They have a policeman guarding the door for you."

"Oh."

He headed out the door. "Take your time!" he said as he closed the door behind him.

---

The officer was standing on the left side of the door. Dick went to the other side, slouching down against the wall. "Hello." He said just to be polite. The officer turned, nodded, and got back to staring at the wall.

Dick was a little puzzled by this behavior. He had talked to the guard this morning, and he seemed quite friendly, friendly enough that he would give more than just a nod.

"Is the girl still in there?" the officer asked, and looked at Dick.

It was then that he noticed _it was a different officer_. The other man that was here was short, and had some facial hair. This man was tall, big, and was clean-shaven.

"Yes…I'll go check on her again." He nodded again toward the police officer, and quickly opened the door. As soon as he closed it, he took a chair, quietly turned it over, and placed it to block the door, and ran up to Barbara.

"We gotta go!" he half-whispered with urgency.

Barbara, who only had one leg in the pants he had given her, squealed in surprise at seeing Dick so soon. She hopped on one leg, and fell behind the bed with an 'ahh!'. "WHAT are you DOING in here?!" she said, trying to pull up her pants to cover up her pink underwear in embarrassment.

"Hush!" he came up to her, helping her up. "I'm sorry I walked in on you, but something's not right."

She zipped her pants and slipped on her shoes, looking at him confused. "What is it?" she began toward the door.

"No, the window!"

"WHAT?" she looked out the window. "We gotta be three stories up!"

"It's easy. Trust me."

_Trust me? Wait a minute… _"Come on!" Dick grabbed her hand, sliding the window open, "Follow me!" He straddled the window sill and helped her drop to a ledge about a just below. Its outer edge was only a foot from the wall, and it had a slight incline. She grabbed onto the cracks between the stones for dear life. "This is nuts! What are we running from?"

Dick carefully closed the window as best he could, and shimmied down the wall to her right. "This way." He moved off to the right and after shuffling about 30 feet, they came to the end of the ledge.

"Ok, climb up on me." He said as he extended his left knee toward her, and took her right hand in his left hand. "But—"

"Barbara! Just do it."

She sighed, her voice shaky because of how scared she was. "Ok." She looked for a hand-hold above him. The windowsill had to be about 4 feet higher than she could reach over her head. Stepping onto his left knee with her right leg, and with him holding her right hand, she reached up with her left hand for the windowsill.

"I can't reach it!"

"You'll have to step on my shoulders!" Dick said. She did so, putting her left foot on his left shoulder and reached up to the windowsill. This time, she grabbed on the mortar crack just below the window. As she began to pull herself up, she lost her footing on his shoulder and her foot slipped down his chest tearing at his skin. Dick grunted and grasped with his right hand in the mortar crack, and caught her with his left. She wound up with her legs straddling his left shoulder like a horse. Her pants zipper scratched his left cheek and he nearly lost his balance.

"Sorry!" She looked down at him, embarrassed. She tried to put her right foot on his right shoulder, but kept slipping until Dick finally got fed up with it, reached up with his left hand, and pushed her up.

Barbara sucked in breath as she felt his hand on her tailbone. She finally found her footing on his shoulders, and examined the window. "This one has a screen!"

"Well so did the other one, I just push it aside!" Dick said in an urgent, exasperated, half-whisper.

"Oh." She pushed it aside. "Hey, I did it!"

"Wonderful! Now GET IN THERE."

Barbara had to step on his head to claw her way up. Dick could feel his scalp shifting. She crawled in, and landed on the tiled floor of a hospital room that looked similar to her own.

"ELIZABETsH?? IS THAT YOU??" mumbled a scratchy, old voice. Barbara saw on the hospital bed, an old lady with white hair and wrinkled skin who was squinting to see her. "I can't find my glasses." On her bedside, the old lady's dentures were soaking in something clear. _Oh gross!_

"IT IS YOU ELIZABEsTHssss! COME HERE AND GIVE YOUR GRANDMA EDNA A KISS!" the old lady said, smiling a toothless smile.

"Um—" Suddenly, Barbara felt herself being pushed. "I'm sorry, but it _isn't_." said Dick, who had come through the window behind her, and was escorting her to the door.

"COME OVER HERE ELIZABETH!" Barbara decided to amuse the old lady, came over, and gave her a soft kiss on her cheek.

"WHO'S YOUR FRIEND?" asked the lady, looking behind Barbara at Dick, who tugged at her arm. "We HAVE to GO." He whispered in her ear.

"This is…Fred. I'm sorry Grandma…Edna, but we have to go." With that, Dick pulled her away and began to start again for the door.

"COME BACK AND VISIT ME ELIZABEsTHs!" the women called as the door closed. Dick hurriedly dragged Barbara by her arm down the hall. "Come, _Elizabetsh_, we gotta hide."

"I still don't get it, who's after me?"

"That policeman out guarding your room was switched. When I came here, I talked to him, and when I stepped out while you were changing, it was a different man. I'm guessing whoever is after you was waiting for the right moment to take you again."

"But why _me_?"

"You're Commissioner Gordon's daughter…We'll hide in there." He said, pointing to a closet that said 'JANITORS ONLY.' Barbara stopped dead in her tracks. "You've GOT to be KIDDING me."

"Come on!" he yanked her in after him and closed the door. All was dark again and nothing could be heard except for their breathing.

"Alfred, we'll meet you on the lower level in a few minutes."

"What—"

Dick put his finger on Barbara's lips to stop her, and she did immediately. "Quiet."

After a few minutes, when there was no noise outside the door, Dick found a towel of sorts, placed it at the base of the door while groping to turn on the light. After he was satisfied he whispered, "So…how have you been the past 3 years?"

Barbara was mad. "How do you think I've been?" She cried in a hushed but forceful tone. "When my father just died, I got tortured by Joker, had you see me in my UNDERWEAR, touched me in unseemly ways while climbing around outside on a tiny ledge 3 stories up on the side of a building when I'm terrified of heights? And you ask me how I've been??"

_Well, she hasn't lost her effusive tongue, _Thought Dick.

She huffed. "I've been better."

Dick felt ashamed. "I'm sorry, Barbara." He found her hand and held it softly in his own. "I meant every word of what I said at the memorial service. I know it'll be hard for you to cope with your father's loss, but if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you."

Once again, Barbara was speechless. She wanted to do something, like hug him, and she would have if his watch wouldn't have gone off again. "Master Dick, the car is waiting for you on the lower level."

He let go of her hand flipped off the light, swept the towel away with his foot and reached for the doorknob. "I think it's safe to go out now."

He opened the door, quickly scoped the hall, and motioned for Barbara to follow him. She did, and soon found that they were going down several flights on a stairwell.

They had reached the lower level in the rear of the building. Barbara was surprised when she saw a limo parked on the side. Dick opened the door for her, and she hopped in. He followed after her, closed the door and instructed, "Go."

The limo pulled away, and soon the hospital was out of Barbara's sight. She looked out the window for what seemed like the longest time, until it occurred to her that she had no idea where they were going. Reading her thoughts Dick said, "We already have a room for you and all of your belongings have been shipped over."

When Barbara didn't say anything, he added, "I hope you'll like living at the manor."

Barbara looked down at her hands. "Yes, I'm sure I will, but I can't help remember _why _I'm going to be living there. I realized that the past day has been a blur. First the news, then the memorial service, and then getting kidnapped and rescued and sent to the hospital…I've never really had time to grieve for my father yet. There's still a part of me that's denying his death. I'll need some time to adjust."

"Of course."

"And by the way, aren't I supposed to check out of the hospital?"

"We took care of that."

"Oh."

The rest of the way, they were silent.

Barbara found herself looking out the window, even though it was completely boring. When she couldn't stand it any longer, she found herself looking over and studying Dick.

He was staring straight ahead, unaware of her steady gaze. His hair was dark, almost black, and his bangs were always falling in his face, leaving him constantly brushing them to the side. His hair wasn't very long, but it was shaggy, and went down to about an inch below his ears. He had a good build, better than most boys his age. _That must come from being an acrobat. _She thought. And in being an acrobat, he had strong, muscled arms.

He turned, and stared back at her.

She blinked twice, because at first, she didn't believe what she was seeing.

She was looking into the same eyes as last night. They were the same green, kind eyes as the boy who has saved her. _It couldn't be…could it?_

"Barbara?" He smiled at her, and she realized what she was doing. Embarrassed, she looked out the window again.

"Where exactly are we going?" she asked, finally daring to meet him eye to eye again.

"Well, to make a long story short, you're coming home with us."

"_Us_?"

"My foster father and me. And Al, of course."

The driver, whom Barbara had barely noticed, looked back at them in his mirror. "Hello Miss Barbara." He said, with a British accent.

"He's our driver and butler too." added Dick.

The driver almost rolled his eyes. "Master Grayson is rather informal. You can call me _Alfred_."

"Pleased to meet you." said Barbara, to be polite. "Who's your foster father?"

"I think you know him." said Dick, gleaming with pride. "Mr. Bruce Wayne."

"_Bruce Wayne_?"

"Yep."

"Gotham _billionaire_?"

"Yep."

"Owner of Wayne Industries?"

"That's the one."

Barbara was surprised, and shocked. "Wow."

"Master Dick, we have arrived." said Alfred from the front seat.

"Look out your window, Barbara." said Dick, smiling. "Welcome to Wayne Manor."


	7. Chapter 6

It was then that Barbara noticed it was … snowing?

The limo was filled with a sweet scent, something she had never smelled before. It smelled wonderful, like a soft perfume, or a greenhouse full of flowers.

Dick seemed to once again read her thoughts. "Japanese cherry blossoms; beautiful, aren't they? Bruce had a whole orchard imported."

As the window's scenery rushed by, she had only just noticed all the trees lining the long road they were on, and all the small, blowing snowflakes that she now knew were tiny blossoms.

"This is Wayne's property?" She thought out load. "Actually, we've been on it for a couple minutes now." Dick said casually, staring out the window, but not in the same wonder as Barbara. "The driveway is almost a mile."

The smell of the Japanese cherry blossoms was too much for Barbara. Dick laughed as she stuck her head out the window to get a good breath of the seductive fragrance.

The wind blew her red hair in her face, and as she reached out, she could feel the soft, small flowers brush her skin, making it tingle. Her palm closed around one, and she sat back down in the limo, showing it proudly to Dick. "I think you'll like it here, Barbara." He was smiling at her, and she smiled back, but it felt empty and hollow.

The whole reason she was here was because she was a homeless orphan. She was certain she _would_ love it here; but she would always be reminded of why.

The two teens were both silent, until Alfred announced, "We are here."

Before she had even unbuckled her seatbelt, Dick was opening the door for her, and helping her step out. "I'll be coming in shortly, Master Grayson. I'm sure you can show Miss Barbara around?"

"Sure Al, we'll be fine." Alfred nodded, and then drove the limo down the road that they had just come up. Barbara watched the black car until it was out of sight, then looked around at her surroundings.

The house was bigger than Barbara's old complex, maybe even twice as big. What Dick described as the mile-long driveway curved into a roundabout that hugged a marble fountain of clear water. There was a life-sized statue as the centerpiece, looking like a tall and majestic Greek God. A set of speckled white marble stairs led up to the front of the house, which had two French doors and white pillars that were as tall as the first story.

"Yep, she's a beauty. There are 3 stories, the first and second are for guests, the third is Bruce and my private quarters. We have an Olympic sized pool, gym, ball room, and an orchard and gardens out back."

Barbara had barely heard him; she was too busy studying the architecture of the building. The red and brown bricks were old, she could tell that much, but there was something crisp and homey about them. They didn't clash at all with the white marble stairs and pillars, for there were windows, too many to count, with pure white shutters. Barbara imagined herself looking out one of those windows, feeling the fresh breeze early in the morning. This was the only house for miles.

Barbara was so speechless, all she could say was, "Wow."

"That'll be your room," said Dick, pointing to the top floor, "it's the only one with a balcony. We save it for very special guests."

She was flattered, so much that she started to blush. She looked where Dick was pointing to: a stone white balcony, with a balustrade ledge that looked over the landscape as a whole. From that high up, she was sure she could see the cherry blossoms, even the front gate at the start of the driveway.

"I'm sure the view is spectacular." She whispered, too shocked for words. It was all too much to take in at once.

"I'll show you inside then." He smiled, and beckoned to the stairs.

The inside of Wayne Manor was just as impressive as the outside. As they walked in, Barbara could hear her shoes click on the clear floor tiles that showed her refection as if she was looking into a new mirror. Like most of the house, the tiles were white marble, with black speckled swirls that made each tile look unique. Another water fountain was in the center of the room, layers of smooth pebbles arranged under a trickling water source. The soft sound of the water hitting the pebbles made the atmosphere of the room calm and relaxing, and gave Barbara a sense she was almost at home. Over the fountain there was a candle-lit silver candelabra.

In contrast there were muskets and black powder pistols, circularly displayed and fastened to the walls above the glass-encased suits of armor around edges of the room. Each looked older than the next. There were hundreds of swords that reflected the candle light and glistened from woven displays like tapestries of war. "Oh my." Barbara breathed as chills ran down her back. "It was customary for those in power to display that power in the entry way, so that guests who may have ill-intent would think twice about any attempt at over-throwing them." Dick gazed around as he explained, "Now they're antiques, but still quite impressive, don't you think?"

"That stairway leads to the second floor," said Dick again; pointing to a wide red-carpeted staircase. She could visualize movie stars walking down it… "To the guestrooms," He added.

Barbara was shown the entire first floor, stopping mainly at the dining room, ballroom, and kitchen. Each room mesmerized Barbara, such as the ballroom. It reminded her of the Von Trapp residence from _The Sound of Music_, because of the awe and mystery that surrounded it. The walls were white, with golden Victorian designs that were so fine, Barbara wondered whether it was paint or real gold.

The ballroom opened up to a private tiled courtyard, the same tiles from the main room. The little patio was surrounded by hedges and even more statues, each one different than the other. There were Greek goddesses, gargoyles, Roman busts of men and their magnificent horses.

The dining room wasn't as exciting as the ballroom, but was decorated with many paintings that made it interesting. All the paintings were of grand quality, and Barbara forgot that they were in a dining room at all; but rather, an art museum. The dining table was long and shiny cherry wood, enough to seat up to eighty guests. Each chair was the same, made of cherry wood, comfortably upholstered with a scripted "W" carved into the back of it. Rarely, Dick told her, were there that many guests, but there was no other dining room for their common use, so it was used at _all_ the meals.

A set of swinging doors on the far side of the room opened up to the food preparation room, which Barbara felt more at home with. It looked like a mini gourmet kitchen, complete with walk-in pantry, freezer, and the most cooking equipment she had ever seen. "Does Alfred do this all himself?" she gasped. "Most of the time, yes. Usually he only has to deal with me and Bruce, so he doesn't mind. You'll like his cooking."

Last, he showed her the sitting room, the smallest room they had been in and the most plain, but it was unique in that way. It was bare, with a few armchairs, an old antique carpet, a fireplace and an old grandfather clock in the corner. A few bookshelves lined the borders of the room, but that was all.

Barbara loved it.

The walls were not decorated like they were in the rest of the rooms. They were bare except for a large framed painting of a man and woman hugging, just above the fireplace.

"My parents." Dick said quietly, staring up at the picture. "That was made shortly before they died."

"I'm sorry." Said Barbara quickly, and without knowing what else to say, looked at the painting as he was.

Dick was definitely a younger version of his father: strong, tall, jet black hair and kind eyes--but not the color --He had his mother's vibrant green eyes.

"They died doing what they loved. Someone tampered with their trapeze lines." His eyes gazed down, a blank look on his face. "I was to go after them, but…" he seemed unable to go on. "It snapped before I could."

Unbidden tears came to her eyes. After another silence, Barbara said again, "I'm sorry" and felt so stupid, she wanted to stuff the words back in her mouth.

"Well it was a long time ago, so…" he started to walk out of the room, and by the time Barbara noticed, he was already halfway to the door.

Going back to the main hallway where they had come in, they took a golden elevator up to the third floor, in silence. To keep her eyes from meeting Dick's, Barbara read the buttons on the side of the door, which read, "FIRST FLOOR/SECOND FLOOR/PENTHOUSE". Dick had pushed the one that read "PENTHOUSE". The buttons lit up with a golden glow as they passed each floor. Barbara was relieved when the she heard the familiar _ding_ and the elevator doors opened up to a huge room.

It was a typical bachelor hangout, filled with many of what she assumed were Bruce's past-times. A flat screen TV, couch, a couple scattered bean bag chairs and foosball table occupied the room neatly, probably because of Alfred's constant cleaning of it. Three doors lead out of the room, through which she could see a game room, and through another, a hot tub but she could not see beyond the third from where she was standing.

"C'mon." Dick headed to the third door, which lead to a wide, carpeted hallway of even more doors. Barbara got lost just looking at it.

The dark red carpet was warm and plush under her feet, and the familiar "W" that she had seen carved into the dining chairs was part of the design, which looped around at refined patterns. The hallway had raised panel wainscoting with a finely carved chair rail that matched the crown molding above, with pleasing cream colored hand-textured walls in between.

She followed Dick's lead, until he stopped at a certain golden handled door, but didn't open it. "Bruce's room," he headed down the hallway for another few yards, until they came to a door decorated with sports pictures and motorcycle posters, then casually pointed with his thumb, "_My_ room," he turned back and smiled at her. "And yours will be just across from mine, last door on the left."

He stopped at a heavy looking white six panel door that was a few feet taller than she. The handle was golden; it looked like real gold, like almost everything she had seen in the house. He twisted the handle and pushed the door open for her, then stepped aside to let her in.

She was hit with a soft breeze of air, an airy scent, like fresh linen. A light pink canopy bed was to her right. The color reminded her of some of the just blooming cherry blossoms, which were a faint pink. To her left was a dresser with a mirror above it and her brushes, and what she could tell was a walk-in closet with the same six panel door and golden handle. That was the first thing she explored, and she found all of her old worn clothes and even a few new ones all clean and waiting for her. The closet was filled with the same plush warm carpet, but not the rest of the room. It was light oak flooring, the same warm feeling as the carpet, but not as noticeable. The room was decorated to her comfort with her things: her old gymnastics trophies, her old dolls and stuffed animals, and even her ancient typewriter stood on a white marble desk by her bed.

She walked over to the desk, her feet giving a little echo on the floor, and she gingerly touched the keys with her fingertips. And there was the picture of her with her dad, right where it always was on her desk back home. Her eyes welled up again and she turned away from Dick as he spoke up after he followed her into the room. "We had all of your things shipped here ahead of time, you know, so you didn't have to…"

He didn't finish his sentence, but he didn't need to. They both knew what he was going to say. The soft breeze hit her again, and she turned around to see two huge glass windows, with and opening glass door which she saw lead out to the balcony she had looked up upon when first coming in.

She turned to Dick, who was looking back at her with a slight smile. "Thank you for everything."

He chuckled, "You should be thanking Alfred. He nearly strained his back lugging up all your stuff."

A giggle escaped from her lips. "But where's Bruce?" She was happy to turn away from the thoughts that the picture had evoked.

"He had some other business to take care of, but he promised to be up for dinner."

"_Up_? Is he here—in the manor?"

"Well no, but—" he suddenly seemed a little uncomfortable, like he was improvising. "Don't worry, he'll be back." He added, "I hope you like your room."

"It's what every girl would dream of." She tried to smile, but could not. "I know I seem unappreciative but…" she turned away, not wanting him to see her like this. "I miss … my old room."

"Barbara…" his voice was different now, soft, and he almost startled her when he lightly touched her arm. "I know it's hard at first. What you need is some…time."

The house was so wonderful, and she had nearly forgotten her troubles until his words sent her spiraling to reality. "My father isn't dead." Her tone was filled with hurt and anger. "He can't be."

Dick knew this was his cue to leave, but he didn't want to leave her alone. The past couple days, all she had been was alone. Tortured emotionally and physically, left for dead before he had found her.

There was something different about her, something that made him want to be close to her. It was a feeling he had never felt for anyone; never had he had such a strong urge to be there for her.

She couldn't quite look into his eyes. "Why?" she asked, aloud. "Why is this happening to me? What did I do?"

"Listen to me." He now had both her arms in a firm grip, not tight and constricting, but enough to make her stay put. "Whatever happened to your father was not your fault, ok? It was never your fault and it never will be. You've got to accept that, or you'll never be able to heal."

A few tears slid down her face, but she nodded, her blue eyes filling up. She didn't know what gave her the desire or why, but she wanted to hug him, to forget all her worries and doubts, and just stop time in that moment.

But would he find that to be too impulsive? Probably. Too weird? Definitely. But he was so nice, so kind to her, and she didn't know exactly how to feel about him. Would he understand how she felt at that moment?

No. He was a guy, after all, and could never understand _her_.

"What people need is each other. When you want to talk, I'll be here for you Barbara." He handed her a tissue.

She stepped back, and smiled at him. "Please call me Babs."

**Finally updated after like A YEAR. (sorry!) I will be updating more, so look for more chapters!**

**~ Oracle**


	8. Chapter 7

Dick stayed true to his word when he said Bruce would come up for dinner. In fact, Barbara had just sat down when he came strutting in the room, wearing a formal suit and beaming.

"Sorry I'm late—Long business meeting." He said pleasantly as he sat down at the head of the table, Alfred standing beside him.

Dick, who was sitting across from Barbara and next to Bruce, rolled his eyes. Barbara found this to be odd, but her thoughts were interrupted when Alfred said stiffly, "It's good you're here Master Bruce, I was just about to serve the main course for the night."

He headed off for the swinging kitchen doors, rolling a silver cart, which Barbara assumed the food would be placed on, behind him. She looked up almost nervously at Bruce Wayne, whom she had never really met on a personal level. "So Barbara, did you get a good tour of the place?" His smile and tone made it sound like they had been good friends for a long time.

"Yeah, it's really beautiful. I really like my room." She smiled, but didn't return the same kindness in Bruce's. "Although I'm afraid I might get lost trying to find it again."

"You'll get use to the place. Besides, being lost is a great way to explore." Piped up Dick, glancing over quickly at Bruce, who must have given him a stern look, for he looked down, slightly pink in the face and didn't say another word.

_They're a very odd father and son._ Thought Barbara, as the swinging doors echoed through the large room, letting them know Alfred had returned with the food. _But then they really aren't father and son, are they?_

For each person was a sliver covered platter, which Alfred placed for them one by one. The meal was revealed to be steak and baked potatoes, with steamed broccoli. At once, Barbara's stomach gave a queasy lurch, and she only picked at the steak with her fork while the two men sitting with her attacked theirs. She nibbled on the broccoli. Her dad had hated the smell of broccoli and never let her have it in the house. She lost her appetite. It was all too much.

Alfred seemed to be the only one who noticed. "Is there something wrong with the steak, Miss Gordon?"

"No, it's just…I'm a vegetarian, and..." She said quietly.

"Oh. I'm quite sorry about that. I can get you something else—"

"No, thank you; that's fine. I'm not really hungry anyway. I think I'll just go to bed."

Alfred looked at Bruce out of the corner of his eye as Barbara got up and started to leave.

"Are you sure you don't need anything?" Bruce called after her.

"No, I'm ok. Thanks." She was halfway to the door, when Dick called after her.

"Goodnight, Babs." Bruce looked at him and raised an eyebrow, but Dick had re-focused on his steak.

After she had gone, the room was silent, while they quickly finished their food, until Dick reached over and cut half of Barbara's steak and ate that too. Then he looked at Bruce and still chewing said: "Should we get going then?"

"Make sure she's secure in her room. And don't go around making her think she can 'explore' around here; we don't want her stumbling into things..."

"Right." Dick cut across him.

Bruce got up and headed to the swinging doors, through the kitchen and into the library. "I'll see you down there in twenty."

After Bruce left, it was only Alfred and Dick, and what was left of the food getting cold. "I'm worried for her, Al."

"Don't worry Master Grayson. Right now, I think she just needs some space. She'll come when she's ready."

It took Barbara nearly 15 minutes to finally arrive at her room, but not until after she had found the game-room, hot tub, and about 5 bathrooms. When she saw the correct hallway (she knew, because of Dick's poster-covered door) she ran into her room, locked the door, and jumped on the bed.

All she wanted to do was sleep, and close her eyes, and imagine herself back in her old room. What had even become of her old apartment? Was it sold? Was some other girl now sleeping in her room? What about the rent? She read the bills, even when her father tried to hide them.

Her father…

Just the memory of him made the tears flow. She had no family. Her mother had abandoned her, taking her brother as well. No matter how nice Bruce and Dick were to her, they would _never _be family.

This house had everything she could have dreamed of. What other girl had a personal balcony, a game room, not to mention a cute guy down the hall? But she missed the faded glow of the luminescent stars above her head, which her Dad had helped her put up when she was little. She missed the feeling of her pillow, warm and soft, its comfort as she drifted off to sleep. She missed the stain on her carpet from her disastrous science project in the 5th grade. She missed her home. She missed dad.

The pink fabric comforter became damp and soggy, but she didn't seem to notice. She thought she felt and heard sobbing coming from her lips, but she seemed disconnected from it. Sleep was what she needed. In dreams, she could forget everything.

Yes, it was what she needed.

It was nearly seven o'clock, when the sun began to set, a canvas of reds, purples and pinks. Dick remembered Bruce's instructions to make sure she was secure before heading down to the cave.

Her door was locked. So as quietly as he could, he walked up to it and placing his fingertips at the frame, he placed his ear to it, being careful not to give away his presence. He felt like a voyeur enough without using his tools. Then he heard it – muffled sobs – coming from her bed.

He was torn between wanting to burst in and try to help or simply leave her be. Resisting the urge to open the door, he headed back to his room.

By the time Barbara woke up, it was completely dark. The door to her balcony was still open, making the room cold, not like the refreshing breeze before. Her stomach growled, and she remembered that she hadn't really had any supper.

To get to the kitchen, she would have to go past all the rooms…but what if she woke someone up? The last thing she wanted to do was disturb someone.

She was still fully dressed. So as quietly as she could, Barbara stepped out of her bed and tiptoed to the door, opened it quietly and proceeded down the hallway. She causally glanced toward Dick's room – the door was ajar – but she couldn't see anyone inside. She was no snoop, so she kept on walking until she came to the elevator.

The first floor was dark and silent, except for the water fountain. Almost blindly, she made her way to the kitchen by going through the massive dining hall. She flicked on the light, and glanced around, making sure she was alone. She found the walk-in pantry, which was loaded with every food she could think of.

She grabbed an unopened box of apple-jacks within her arm's reach, opened it and started to munch on it straight from the box. When she closed the pantry door, Alfred was standing right in front of her, wearing his usual Butler's tux and looking wide awake, even though it was about two in the morning.

She was so startled she nearly dropped the box.

"Alfred! What are you doing up so late?"

"I could ask you the same question, Miss Gordon."

Her cheeks began to flush, but she shrugged her shoulders and sat down on the kitchen counter's swivel chair. "Well, I didn't have anything to eat, and I can't fall back asleep."

"I see." Alfred rummaged through the cupboards, taking out two bowls and spoons. He asked as he went to the refrigerator to get some milk, "Mind if I join you?" Then he delicately took the wrist of her hand that was buried in the Apple Jacks, gave it a little shake over the box and set it on the counter. His face was stony, but not unkind.

"Uh, not at all; sorry" she said, and for the first time she managed a heart-felt smile as he stood across from her, handing her a bowl of applejacks. He poured himself the same, and they both chewed for a while.

"So, is anyone else up, or is it just you and me?"

"Oh, I'm sure it's just you and me. Master Bruce and Dick aren't creatures of the night."

Dick rubbed his eyes wearily as Bruce, still in cape and cowl, sat at the bat-computer, examining a map of Gotham.

"Not that this isn't fun, but I'd like to get some well deserved rest." Dick said to Bruce, who didn't even seem to notice. "We have a lead."

"Can it wait until morning? I'm bushed." After he had changed back into his street clothes, Dick half walked, half stumbled to the bat elevator that lead to the library.

On the way up, he leaned up against the wall, nearly falling asleep. He was so tired…when the elevator opened it caught him by surprise, and he fell to the carpeting. He mumbled under his breath as he pulled the pendulum of the grandfather clock to hide the elevator. _I hope I can make it up to my room…I may fall asleep on the way._

"Why don't you ever have meals served in here? I mean, for simple meals like breakfast and lunch?"

Barbara gazed around the room, which was certainly big enough for midday meals. "I'm not quite sure." answered Alfred, still finishing up his applejacks. "It is all up to Master Bruce."

"He certainly has good taste in furnishing." Barbara swallowed a laugh.

"It is his parent's house. He hasn't made many modifications."

It was then that Dick came through the door, heading up to his room. He was jolted awake seeing Barbara and Alfred sitting at the counter _this_ late at night.

"AHEM." Alfred cleared his throat loudly, narrowing his eyes at Dick and jerking his head, as if to say _scat!_ He didn't understand him, until he realized with a jerk in his stomach that he was still wearing his cowl.

He quickly removed it, hiding it behind his back just as Barbara turned to see him. "Dick? What are you doing up? Alfred said you hate staying up late…"

"He did, did he?" said Dick, clearing his throat. "Well, you know…those late night movies!" he laughed nervously, shifted the cowl to his other hand and stuffed it in the back of his pants out of her sight under his shirt then quickly stepped sideways to the door, still facing her direction as the wall took him from her sight. He raced up to his room in utter embarrassment. _Why must I always look like an idiot in front of her?_

Barbara and Alfred didn't know what to talk about after that.

For the next couple of days, the only times Dick saw Barbara was at meals. She stayed in her room, doing who knows what, only coming down when food was served. He was ordered by Bruce and Alfred to leave her alone, so when he wasn't being tutored, he was in the gym, working out. It was dull as powder, but there was nothing else to do – but wait for the darkness of night.

After 5 days of isolation in her room, Barbara was fed up. She felt disgusting, and above all, her favorite pair of jeans were starting to tighten around her thighs. She had kept up her hygiene, thanks to her own personal Jacuzzi, off her bedroom. _WHAT does Bruce Wayne do for HIS day job?_ She wondered as she rummaged through her closet for her sports bra, some gym shorts, an old T-shirt, and a pair of tennis shoes.

She could easily navigate her way to the gym from the elevator; she just selected the 'BASEMENT' floor.

The elevator began to move, and she became lost in her thoughts. She wondered if they thought she was stupid, staying up in her room for a whole school week. Come to think of it, what was she going to do for school? Gotham High was nearly a half hour away from here. Would Alfred be willing to drive her every day? How was she going to catch up on her schoolwork?

The elevator let out its usual _ding_ as the doors open, and she suddenly felt small. Her ears were assaulted with screeching guitar in an unidentifiable riff, coupled with screamo-style unintelligible lyrics.

She stood before a blue plush matted floor, which reminded her strongly of her gymnastics. The gym was as big and open as her school's, except that in the middle of the huge area was a trapeze set, hanging dangerously high off the ground.

She was not alone.

A shirtless Dick Grayson was standing with his back to her, gazing up at the trapeze. Hanging next to the trapeze was a long rope, tied off at the ceiling rafters and lapping down to his feet. He gripped the rope with one hand above his head, and with a little jump, began to walk his way up, hand over hand, looping the rope with his foot to steady himself. It took someone with a lot of upper-body strength, yet he made it look easy as a wink. When he reached the trapeze, he grabbed the bar with one hand, then having a solid grip on it, placed the other on it and completely let go of the rope.

He was hanging feet above the ground, his feet poised and parallel, and he simply hung there for a few moments. Her mouth fell open. The terror that would have taken Barbara, being up that high, never seemed to cross his mind; this was his safe haven, his comfort zone. She had forgotten that he had grown up used to being up so high.

His arms and shoulders had huge bulges in the right places, and dimples in others. It was like looking one of the Greek-god sculptures at the Gotham Museum. He carried his weight with his upper body effortlessly, sometimes with just one arm. With that one arm, he did a pull-up. Then he switched arms and did two more.

It was obviously a daily warm-up routine.

From there, he did moves that would make even a great gymnast approve; and perhaps make others green with envy. He was doing similar moves that she would have for warm-ups, except that he was high up in the air with no ground underneath him to keep him safe.  
He began to swing on the trapeze, kipping his body to the rhythm of the music for momentum. His energy and nerve seemed boundless, and she held her breath as he flew into a summersault 20 feet above the floor, then firmly caught the other trapeze with both of his hands. He switched his hands, so that he was facing the trapeze bar he had just left, that was still swinging. Again he gathered up momentum, and reached out to take the other trapeze with his left hand.

He set and held his body in an iron cross but with the two trapeze bars instead of traditional rings. He was not violently shaking like a normal gymnast would as every muscle in his arms flexed and held. He then pulled the two bars to his hips, piked and pressed into a handstand holding the two trapeze bars at a constant parallel distance for an impossible amount of time. The music stopped. She noticed her own jaw and forced her mouth shut. Finally he relaxed, allowed himself to swing under the bars and dropped, the two trapeze bars flinging in opposite directions. He free-fell, landing in a somersault and stood up, completely unharmed, but a little out of breath, and then noticed her.

Her face must have flushed a deep coat of red, for he smiled, and gave a little shrug. "How long have you been spying on me, Babs?"

Barbara tried to respond cleverly, but all that came out was, "_pfh._" She seemed to have a weakness for shirtless guys, for it left her quite speechless. Or maybe it was just the way he called her "Babs".

"What, you think you can do better than me?" He looked a little arrogant as he crossed his muscled arms. "I'd like to see you try that."

"Well…" Babs said stiffly, "Gymnastics takes just as much guts as an acrobat does."

"You're a gymnast?" He asked a little surprised. "And how would you define gymnastics?"

"Elegance."

"Acrobatics?"

She looked perturbed. "Crazy elegance."

He seemed content with that, but still had his arms crossed. "So, what have you got? Show me?"

Her eyes narrowed at him, and she took a sharp breath of air before stating, "Fine" and then pivoted on the spot and walked away.

"Hey, where you going?" He seemed amused.

"I need to stretch and warm up a bit so I can show you!" she yelled over her shoulder, and it echoed all around the gym.

"How about some music?" He asked and moved towards the system controls. The same song began to blare and the walls began to reverberate.

"What is that NOISE?" she yelled over the cacophony.

"Don't you like Linkin Park?" he asked innocently.

"I think not." She said.

He found the most distasteful of Alfred's tracks and turned the volume down. A heavy-bowed Russian violin concerto began to play and he groaned.

"Perfect!" She walked to the opposite corner of the mat from him. Her feet together, she faced him yards away. She would show him her back somersault with one and half twists – the one that earned her the gold medal at the Gotham Gymnastics Regional.

She put her arms up and arched her back, putting one arched foot forward, the way she and all other gymnasts started their routines. She smiled, and looked around at an invisible crowd waiting for the violin to build. She still knew the routine by heart, but just this ending would really show him that she was no slouch. She visualized the run, took a deep breath, and began to sprint.

Dick saw her game face go on like a mask, thinking, _Maybe I shouldn't have wound her up this much…_

Each step brought back the memory of that crowded arena of people she didn't know. The focused goal: to finish strong, and claim the gold, but this time, the gold was the respect she deserved from Dick Grayson. Her hands reached down quickly, a in a round-off to the reverse take-off point. She bounded into the air, high enough to twist one and a half times. She threw her arms into her chest as she spun, and completed the somersault landing on her two feet and taking a short step forward to catch her balance, nearly touching his nose with her own. She arched her back with her hands above her head, as she had done at the start, this time putting her left foot behind her in a vertical split balancing just inches from him, a graceful catlike figure. She was eye to eye with him. All her gymnastics training had shown through, bright like the sun, and he was squinting in it.

He had put out both his arms to catch her, but seeing as she did not need his help, he put them dully back at his side. He hadn't even stepped back, and she didn't know if it was because he knew she wouldn't mess up, or maybe it was because he trusted she wouldn't.

He raised an eyebrow, looking amused.

"Cute, Babs."

Her eyes narrowed, and she stepped back, crossing her arms and looking at him with loathing. "Fine, I'll practice over here and you can do your little bird dance up in the trapeze." She then walked to where she started, leaving Dick to laugh to himself as he climbed the rope to continue his warm-ups.

**Finally done!**

**This chapter took a LOT of You Tube videos…I don't know how many times I had to watch circus acrobats and Nastia Liukin's floor routines…**

** but it was so worth it :) **

**Stay tuned for the next chapter!**

**~Oracle**


	9. Chapter 8

It must have been an hour down there in the gym.

She was drenched in sweat, and had been practicing her whole routine by heart. After every successful flip or turn, she glanced up to see if Dick was watching, but he never was — at least, not when she was checking.

It was true, he was watching her, and he was secretly impressed. He did a good job not showing it, by glancing away just before she finished her flips. But deep down, he had a great respect for her. She was hard working and determined, yet she spoke her mind and never hid her emotions; well, at least not most of them. That was what he liked best about her.

Barbara heard the Russian music turn off, just as she finished her double back flip for about the seventh time. She turned to face the trapeze bars, which were still swinging, and then noticed Dick walking towards her.

"Well, I'm beat. I'd say that's enough bird dancing for one day, don't you think?"

His face was moist with sweat, not like hers, which felt like it was dripping. "I guess so. Why? Have you got other plans?"

"Did I ever show you the pool?"

"You only mentioned it."

"C'mon. It's a fast way to cool off."

_Swimming?_ She followed his lead, but was skeptical. It wasn't like she was going to swim _fully clothed_. That reminded her: she needed to buy her own swimsuit. Maybe Alfred could drive her tomorrow…

"So, what do you think?"

They had gone through the door on the other end of the gym, across from the elevator. The room only contained an in-ground pool; not Olympic sized, but still huge. It was completely clean and blue, with a deep end and shallow end, like any other pool she had seen. Unlike all the others though, this one wasn't public, which she appreciated. A lot.

"Impressive. Wayne use it much?"

"No." He grinned, then canon-balled in. She was hit with a wave of water, causing her to shriek as he came up for air, laughing. "Come on in, the water's great!"

"No way!" She shook the water out of her shoes, although it did no good. "You got me cooled down enough already!"

"Aw, come on!" He swam up to the edge of the pool, where she was standing, and gave her his best pouty look. "We gotta put this pool to use sometime. Please…Babs?"

This time, she would refuse, even if he was shirtless. She didn't feel like swimming, she felt more like a nice soak in her Jacuzzi. Alone. At least, she thought she did. But then again, she didn't know what to think about him.

"No thank you."

She turned to leave, until he called to her: "Can you at least take my watch up for me?" He held up his closed left hand.

She groaned, but squatted down to be near his level, holding out her right hand. "Wait a minute, you never wore a—"

He grabbed her right wrist, a sly, sinister smile on his face.

"Don't. You. Dare." She glared at him, gritting her teeth, her face going even redder, if it were possible.

But it was too late. He had already decided her fate. He pulled her over his head and she plunged in headfirst, screaming, with socks, shoes, gym shorts and all.

_He is so dead!_ she thought as she felt the water hit her skin at every angle. It was cool, not too hot or cold, just perfect. It felt good after her workout, but he shouldn't have pulled her in like that! Then again, this was a perfect opportunity to freak him out a little bit. All of these thoughts shot through her mind as the bubbles began to dissipate around her while she was still under water. It was time to get even. She already knew the perfect revenge.

She allowed herself to sink, to stay under, and thrashing in a desperate manner. Hopefully he would get the picture of her drowning. She figured he was the type of guy to get worried easily.

He must have been, because after a minute she felt an arm around her middle bring her up to the surface.

"You can't swim?!" He yelled frantically, over the constant splashing of her arms and the violent fit of convincing coughs she voluntarily brought from her chest.

"No, you jerk!" She sputtered. "Why else do you think I didn't want to swim?!"

That was a lie, but she tried to keep her poker face and look like she was mad with him. Of course she knew how to swim; she had grown up at the public pool at her apartment. She had also taken some brief lessons at the Y, and knew she could hold her breath for up to a minute. But Dick did not know this…

"I'm sorry." He helped her to the ladder, to which she clung with a death grip all the way out of the pool. She sat down at a ledge near where Dick was swimming, her feet dangling in the water. "Now you got my socks and new shoes wet. Thanks a lot!" She peeled her shoes and socks off, and winced in disgust as the smell of watery sweat met her nose. She chucked the right shoe at him, which he easily dodged. It created a hollow splash and slowly sunk to the bottom of the pool.

"I'll buy you new ones." He offered hopefully.

She rolled her eyes.

"I know you can't stay mad at me forever." He suddenly looked arrogant and teasing again, and she splashed him when he got near her.

"Hey! " He grumbled haughtily, "I don't deserve this!" wiping the chlorine water out of his eyes.

"You!" _Splash! _"Jerk!" _Splash!_ "Do!" _Splash!_ "Too!" She punctuated every word with a cupped hand and well-directed stream right into his face. "It was very un-gentlemanly to pull me in, fully clothed. "You." _Splash! _"Assumed!" _Splash!_ "That I could swim!" _Splash!_

_She must have spent some time around pools to be so good at directing her water… HMMM… _he thought_, Methinks she doth protest too much_. He let the water run down his face, and then opened his eyes. "_Un_-gentlemanly? So you think I'm a gentleman?" He grinned crookedly. "I like the sound of that."

"Don't give yourself airs."

"But c'mon, swimming's _easy_, Babs." He demonstrated a smooth backstroke. "See? Anyone can do it."

"How?" Barbara said before she could stop herself. She blushed, knowing that she already knew how to swim, but of course, he didn't know that…

She couldn't read his emotions by his face, but he no longer looked amused or teasing as he had before. "Sure." He swam over to her, his arm out. "Take my hand."

"Oh, I don't _think_ so." She held both hands back.

She wasn't even sure if she was pretending anymore, but she hesitated, still sitting on the ledge.

"Let go, Babs. I won't let anything happen to you." He sounded soothing, like coaxing a small child, but she found it strangely comforting. She took his hand, which was wet, but warm.

His other hand was out to catch her as she slipped off the ledge. She landed a bit awkwardly and caught herself by placing her left hand on his shoulder.

This closeness wasn't as awkward as it had been before. Barbara felt almost comfortable with it, being this close to him. Why had she lied about not being able to swim? What was it about him that made her suddenly feel flirtatious, and totally out of her character? Maybe it was because he was extremely attractive and knew it, but his looks were the one thing he wasn't arrogant about. Or maybe because he was so…understanding of her. Well, most of the time, when he wasn't teasing.

"Uh…" Dick also seemed to be caught off guard at her closeness. He wouldn't admit it, but he liked her attention. And the cute burst of freckles across her nose that he had never noticed before until now.

He broke off his thoughts and remembered that he needed to teach her. "Uh, first you have to…" But she was giggling, her cheeks flushing a soft pink, as she tried to look past him and not in his eyes.

"You already know how to swim, don't you?" he said, realizing how she had fooled him and then laughed.

"Excuse me?" she asked him innocently, but he shook his head.

"Hey, it don't take Superman to know your true intention."

"Oh really?" It was her turn to sound amused as she played along. "So tell me, Sherlock, when are you going to buy me those new sneakers?"

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, you owe me."

"But what are you going to owe _me_ for teaching you how to 'swim'?"

"I have a few ideas. Want to know my true intention?" she said needling him. She let go of his hand, putting both of hers around his neck.

"Do tell. You're holding me on the edge of my seat."

She leaned in slowly, as if moving in for a kiss; then, when he was close enough, she let go of him completely, splashing water right in his face.

"Why you little—!"

But she swam away, laughing hysterically, as he splashed her back. They were both laughing and splashing each other until Dick yelled, "Ok, truce! You win."

They both leaned on the ledge, still panting a little, and she suddenly got serious, as she gazed into his eyes.

He looked deep into her blue eyes, and they both knew what she was thinking. Dick had only moved an inch closer to her when he heard, "Excuse me for interrupting, Master Grayson, but you and Miss Gordon have studies to attend to."

They were both mortified at the sight of Alfred, looking down at them suspiciously. "Studies?" croaked Barbara.

"Surely, you didn't think Master Wayne would let you get behind on your education?"

---

Of course, she knew school was going to catch up with her sooner or later. They met in the library, after putting on some dry clothes.

They had been sitting at the table in the library for a while now, both Barbara and Dick, with their noses in the books. Alfred had instructed them to read 4 scenes of Shakespeare's _Hamlet_, and reminded them to pay attention, for he would be quizzing them afterward. Barbara couldn't exactly say she was leaping for joy, but reading on her own was better than listening to a teacher's lecture. That, she was thankful for. But the words were so old-fashioned and hard to understand she couldn't help but let her mind wander a little. She found herself looking at Dick, who was sitting across from her, and looking very much like he understood everything that Shakespeare had written. His eyes met with hers, and he winked, a notion so quick Barbara thought she had simply imagined it. She smiled, but was still a little dazed by their pool experience. She never knew that she was such a flirt; it almost shocked her.

"So, Miss Gordon, what is the main theme of Hamlet would you say?" asked Alfred.

"Um. Life is boring in the middle ages?" Barbara threw out on a whim. _Probably not the best way to impress the new teacher_. _Oh boy_. She frowned.

"Not what I was looking for, and probably not what Mr. Shakespeare was trying to communicate, Miss Barbara. Care to give a little more of a thoughtful answer, Master Richard?" Barbara turned a little pink.

Dick cleared his throat, "Yes, well. Shakespeare in the 'To Be or Not to Be' Soliloquy tips his hand on the theme of the whole play, in that, there is a conflict between Reason and Passion. Elizabethan passion…"

"Very good, Master Richard, I think you have it." Barbara found herself breathing though her open mouth and closed it. She flushed red as Alfred turned toward her with a look of bemusement. "Miss Barbara, when we read, there is always a purpose. Please try to engage your mind even when the piece assigned is uninteresting to you in the future."

"Right." She sighed, and gave Dick a look that made him purse his lips trying to look innocent.

After this failure, which Barbara determined would never occur again, time just dragged. Finally, it was close to ending time. She and Dick were both anxiously watching the clock, and constantly glancing at Alfred, until he must have gotten annoyed, and dismissed them.

"Hey, where are you going?" Barbara called after Dick, who had made a mad dash for the stairs. "I gotta tell Bruce something." He winked at her again, and headed up the stairs two steps at a time. She shook her head in disgust, wondering why he needed to go _upstairs_ to talk to Bruce…since he probably wasn't even here. She hadn't seen him all day.

She noticed Alfred dusting the old grandfather clock in the corner. "Is that one of Bruce's family heirlooms, Alfred?" she asked as she walked over to him to get a closer look.

"Uh, yes. It was his great-grandfathers." He seemed a little uneasy of her fascination with it. He changed the subject rather abruptly. "Are you hungry for dinner, Miss Gordon?"

"But it's too early yet. And where's Bruce?"

Alfred started to head for the door, and she followed him. "He will be here shortly. In the meantime, do you want to help me in the kitchen?"

She shrugged. "Nah. I'd like to read a little bit in here if you don't mind."

"Shakespeare?" He smiled at the look of disgust on her face. "I will inform you when it's ready."

He exited, and as soon as he was gone, Barbara headed again to the Grandfather clock. There was something about it that didn't sit right with her.

It ticked, and told the time perfectly, but she noticed the pendulum was completely still. Weren't grandfather clocks supposed to have _swinging_ pendulums? She frowned, finding this strange. With her index finger, she gently pushed it, and it began to swing. She looked up at the hands. _This is a weird clock._ She stopped the pendulum with her hand, and bent to look up into the clock's works where the weights and chains connected below the face. She must have had too much pressure on the pendulum, for she heard a click that made her stomach drop. _Oh no…I just broke a Wayne heirloom. _She spun around and looked to make sure nobody had come running, and leaned against the clock, devastated. _I'm going to be paying for this until I'm forty…! _She groaned, resting her head against the face of the clock.

Once again, she heard a click. And the pendulum was still. The weights had not moved.

Puzzled, she looked back at the clock face, and the hands were moving again. Cautiously, she pulled down on the chain and lifted the weights like her dad had shown her on their Coo-Coo clock back at the apartment. She was about to start the pendulum swinging, but again, it clicked as she caught her finger on top of the disk. She put both hands on her hips and looked at this goofy thing. Then she placed her hands on either side of the frame and pulled…

…revealing a sliding door? _What is this?_ She stuck her head in and saw buttons labeled 1, 2, 3. _This place is amazing. _She looked behind her again, and heard Alfred humming in the kitchen, so she stepped into the elevator.

And then the door slid shut in a _whoosh_ and left her in complete darkness. _OH CRAP! _She nearly screamed. She had not expected this! She began to hyperventilate when she felt no buttons to open the door. There were only the three as she passed her hand over them as gently as she could so as to not engage them by mistake and wind up _Who Knows Where?_ But then her stomach leaped as she felt the floor drop and she was moving. _Oh no, those buttons must work on body heat. _Well, she would just have to figure out where she was whenever she got there. Wherever 'there' was.

The elevator…_Or is it a capsule?_…was going down at a high rate of speed that made her feel like she was on a roller coaster. Even though she liked coasters, this ride was making her nauseous. She held onto the railings.

When her stomach couldn't stand it any longer, the doors opened to a lightly glowing gray-black. As Barbara curiously stepped out, running her hand through her hair, she was still trying to see as she shuffled a few steps forward, triggering a bright blue light to her right that made her squint. There was no roof, wherever this was. There was a pit of blackness, and as she looked up, hundreds of tiny yellow eyes looked back at her, and she nearly screamed again. _A cave? BATS? EWWW!_

She turned right and saw a massive desk with more flat screens than she had ever seen in her life. There must be several computers, she judged by the several levels of soft hums like purring cats. Even this far away, she could feel the heat from them, all the switches and wires running up and down. In the center of the desk was a single glossy black keyboard with matching mouse, and a huge center screen. The screen was what had triggered on, and now it displayed a slowly flashing familiar symbol of a Bat.

Suddenly a siren went off that echoed all throughout the cave and made her jump. An ear-wrenching screech came from behind her. She covered her ears and ducked, at what she thought was the Bats again. Her eyes became saucers as the screen changed to reveal…_What? _She was still staring at the screens when the Batmobile screeched to a halt just feet behind her…

Two figures leaped from the machine as the doors cantilevered open.

_It can't be!_ Her stomach was doing flip flops as she processed what she was looking at in the screen. _Bruce Wayne is hiding the BATMAN! _A wave of shock and excitement coursed through her. _What other mysteries am I going to find here?_

"Barbara." That voice…she still recognized it from the night they had saved her.

The husky, rough, frightening voice of the Batman.

"What are you doing down here?" Her heart began to beat faster as she heard his voice…Robin. She gasped as air filled her lungs, and she involuntarily brought her hand to her mouth. She knew that voice, and it wasn't just from the night they rescued her. Now all the puzzle pieces came together. _Dick_ was the one who had saved her that night. How could she not recognize those soft green eyes, his voice, the way he said her name?

"You…" She stammered. "You were…You – you – you…rescued me that night?"

He came out of the shadows and into the blue light of the computer screen, his cape trailing behind him. Robin's face read a mix of shock and embarrassment, but she didn't see why he had to be embarrassed. He had saved her! She owed him everything!

"Of course, we knew you would find out our secret sooner or later." He peeled off his mask, staring at it in his hand, and looked up at her, the teasing grin she would normally see completely wiped and replaced with a serious scowl. It was the weirdest sight she had ever seen. Dick Grayson was before her, in a yellow cape and a black 'R' rested on a gold circle on his tunic…and he ran around all night in spandex tights and a cowl, locking up bad guys?

She shook her head. "This is too much for me to handle. I need to sit down."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you should." He pulled up a high-backed swivel chair, and she fell into it with a blank look on her face.

Batman pulled off his cowl, and her face was painted with shock. "YOU'RE –?!! YOU'RE BAT—!!!"

"We didn't want you to find out so suddenly." He paused then stated sardonically, "I'll need to have a word with Alfred." Bruce bent down to her level, his cowl hanging at the nap of his neck. "We were hoping to tell you, and knew that eventually we would have to, if you continued living here. This is why you haven't seen much of me lately."

"Well, that would figure, I guess," said Barbara sheepishly.

"We're not asking anything of you, Barbara. All we ask is that you keep this to yourself."

He walked away from her, sliding his cowl back into place. "The Batwave was what triggered on the computer. I still have a few things I need to do."

"Batwave?"

"It lets us know of any criminal activity — well, that, and intruders in the cave, actually."

"Meaning Joker? That _goon_ is still out there. You're going after him, right?"

He didn't say anything, but she could tell she was right.

"Train me!" she blurted out. "With your help, I can give him a piece of my mind—"

"No," he cut her off shortly. "I don't want you to be obsessed with revenge."

"I'm not! I'm asking for justice."

He walked away towards the Batmobile. "'No' is my final answer." He spoke with the gravelly voice of Batman as he peered over his shoulder.

She crossed her arms, sullen and defeated. The screech of the Batmobile's tires could be heard, and he was gone. They were both silent, with Barbara seething beneath a scowl and ready to break at any moment. Then the flood of realizations hit her all at once, and her face went blank.

"You were the one who saved me," she said again quietly. "How could I not recognize you? I would know you anywhere."

He smirked. "Masks do wonders."

She laughed without humor, then huffed. "You told me to wrap my legs around your waist!"

"When the situation demands—"

"That's crap and you know it. I think you just wanted to get close to me…_Boy Wonder_."

He frowned. "I don't think I like that."

"Then I'll be sure to call you that 24/7."

He laughed. "Great."

Barbara stared at him, an idea coming to her. It would all work out, she was sure of it. "Train me."

"Are you kidding? You heard what Bruce said."

"Yes, I did. And no, I'm not kidding."

He shook his head. "No way."

"Consider it a challenge. Obviously, you can keep secrets, so this shouldn't be too hard for you. You teach me sparring, and self defense. I'll, ah, get a leotard and say I'm working on my gymnastics. That will be a plausible cover, and those routines won't hurt me either."

"And what makes you think I would want to do that? You know, this isn't just about physical training. You have to be mentally tough. I am not saying that you aren't, because I know what you have been through. But you put your life and the lives of your friends on the line out there, and there is no room for screw-ups. People get hurt. People die. Are you willing to risk that? Are you willing to risk my life? I am not sure I am willing to risk yours. You think long and hard, before you make up your mind."

He walked towards a room she had not noticed, and she followed along. Catching up, she turned pink as he stripped down to a skin tight pair of shorts, and then put on his street clothes. Hanging up his suit, she noticed there were three lockers.

"Come on." He led her to the corner of the room where there was another alcove where, to her surprise, was another normal-looking elevator. He pressed his bare hand to a piece of glass in the wall and a red light scanned it. The door opened. "In here."

He touched the '3' button with the back of his knuckle and the elevator began to rise.

"You know that other one is quite a ride." She blushed.

"Yep. How did you..."

She related the story with some embarrassment.

"You know, that is almost exactly what happened to me the first time. I came upon Alfred late one night when I couldn't sleep. He was replacing the clock after using it and didn't notice me." The elevator came to a smooth stop. "Here we are."

What she saw was not the last surprise she would have, she was sure. The doors opened and all of his clothes were neatly hung on two sets of rods, giving her the impression they were in a closet. He brushed them aside, pushed a set of French doors open, and she was in his bedroom. Her face betrayed her surprise. When he looked at her, he acknowledged her confused look. "You'll get used to it."

"Aren't you afraid somebody will find this?" she asked quizzically.

"I never let anyone into my room." He pointed her to the outer door.

"Oh, I guess the tour is over, then."

"Nah, have a seat." He flopped onto his bed and sprawled his arms out.

She pulled up the stuffed chair.

"Have you made up your mind?"

"My mind has always been made up, since the Joker killed my father. I'll do it with your help or without. So, are you going to help me or not?"

"I only know a couple people more determined than you."

"And who might that be?" She grinned.

He raised an eye-brow, and returned her smile, but deep down, he knew that they were both going to regret all of this.

**So glad to finally be finished. C: The next chapter may take a little longer, because I'm going to be really busy this month, but I'll do the best I can.**

**Thanks to Verdin for editing!**

**~ Oracle**


	10. Chapter 9

It took awhile for Barbara to get use to the fact that Bruce Wayne was Batman and Dick Grayson was Robin. The way Bruce Wayne presented himself as a charming easy-going bachelor seemed a little…_fake_ to her now. Bruce was probably the last person she would have expected to see under that cape and cowl. They were in a way, the same person and in a way, not. Although now that she thought about it, Barbara found herself stupid for not putting Robin and Dick together. They had some of the same traits: stubborn, serious at times and childish at others. Knowing it was Dick under the Robin costume; that all made sense to her, strange as it seemed. But Batman was a mystery to her, a shadow, someone frightening and yet mesmerizing at the same time. Was it really Bruce under all that rough exterior?

"Barbara?"

She wasn't surprised at all when Bruce's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"I figured you would still be up. Mind if I join you?"

"Sure. Pull up a lawn chair."

Even though it was cold out, Barbara was sitting in a chair on her balcony. It was early in the morning; the sky was dark, but lightening fast. She couldn't fall asleep, or maybe she had been waiting for the nightly Bat Raids to be over.

"I wanted to discuss what you saw last night. I know it's a lot to take in."

"I'm stronger than you may think, Bruce."

"I want you to fully understand my reasons behind it. We have more in common then you realize."

"I doubt it. We're nothing alike."

"But we both lost something important to us."

"What did you lose?"

"My parents."

"Oh." She was a little surprised. "I'm sorry."

"It was when I was very young. They were shot right in front of me. It's hard to believe that two bullets can change the rest of your life."

"I can't imagine _watching_ my Dad die right in front of me." She shook her head in awe. "It would tear me apart."

"It did. I was never really the same person after that. But that's how The Batman came to be. I knew I wanted to prevent people from suffering the same way I did at the hand of crime."

"But what about the whole bat: creature-of-the-night thing?"

"I was afraid of Bats as a kid. Taking my fear and making it the fear of criminals like the one who shot my parents was my goal."

Barbara was silent for a few moments, before sucking in a breath. "Wow."

Bruce nodded. "So now do you understand?"

"Yes… but I still don't understand why you won't let me be your partner."

Bruce sighed. "Barbara…"

She became flustered. "Well? You let Dick be your partner! Why not me too? I've gone through the same things you two have. You think I just want to sit back and let Joker—"

"That's why I'm not letting you. You want revenge, don't you?" She was silent, and he knew he had hit what she was thinking right on. "You want Joker to suffer the same way you did. But that's not the right thing to do."

"No one does the right thing anymore. He deserves it."

"But that would crush everything that The Batman stands for. That's why I can't let you be my partner."

He got up, leaving her alone on the balcony. Barbara suddenly felt cold, and crawled back into her bed, hot tears streaming down her face as she fell asleep.

That night, she had a strange dream. She couldn't remember all of it, but she knew it included something about Batman and Robin…then suddenly it changed to Bruce and Dick. By then, Bruce had turned, and started walking away from her, just as Dick came closer to her, smiling. "What?" she had said, but he still just stood there looking at her.

When she woke up, she thought she was still dreaming. Looking down at her was Dick Grayson himself. In her room. On her bed.

She screamed. "GET OUT!"

He quickly put his hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. "Jeez, calm down! Do you want to wake Bruce and Alfred up?"

She was silent, but glared at him. He removed his hand. "That's better."

"WHAT are you doing in here?" Her anger turned to embarrassment when she realized her hair was uncombed and her breath was probably disgusting. How long had he been watching her sleep? What if she had been drooling or snoring or something awful like that? Her cheeks flushed even more red.

"It's your first day of training, remember?"

"Oh. Right." She had forgotten almost all of that. As she tried to get up, she realized Dick was still looming over her. "Do you MIND?" She caught him off guard when she pushed him out of her way and hurried over to her closet, closing the door with a slam. "Good Morning to you too." He muttered.

"What am I suppose to wear?"

"Something you would wear to the gym. You know, shorts, tennis shoes…and keep it down, will you? You're loud enough to wake the dead."

"Very funny."

She came out a moment later with the clothes and headed to the bathroom, where he heard the sink start to run and Barbara brushing her teeth. A few minutes later she emerged, her red hair up in a ponytail and looking more awake than she had before.

"Let's go."

They headed down to the gym in silence as to not wake up Bruce or Alfred. As soon as they got to the elevator, Dick started to lay out instructions.

"I had some equipment shipped in for you to use for warm-ups every morning. You still remember your gymnastics training, right?"

"Of course."

"Good. So for…I don't know, a half hour, you can do that while I use the trapeze."

"Ok."

The elevator opened to blackness. Dick stepped out first, and the lights began to slowly flick on. As Barbara stepped out, she saw the different equipment Dick had been talking about. A familiar balance beam, vault, and uneven bars now filled up part of the gym beside the trapeze. The scent of new rubber filled her nostrils as she chalked up her hands, anxious to start.

"How were you able to sneak all this in?"

"I just mentioned to Bruce that you still like to practice your gymnastics to, you know, to keep in shape." Dick's voice echoed through the gym as he started up the stereo. "I even had Alfred burn me a CD of _your_ music." He tried not to grimace as classical music now filled the gym.

"Thanks, that's really thoughtful of you."

He shrugged but was pleased, and headed over to his trapeze.

For a while they both did their own things, not talking but occasionally glancing over at each other.

Dick told her that he would "gradually ease her into" the training by starting off with some easy self-defense moves. She then had to put the moves to test by sparring with him.

"Don't be afraid to hit me hard." He teased her, as they circled each other.

"Whatever, Grayson. You'll be regretting you said that." She smirked.

"Just remember what I taught you."

Barbara nodded, and then attempted a punch that Dick easily blocked with his right hand. He yanked her arm, bringing her to him and nearly making her trip. "You're not keeping yourself centered. Try again."

She shoved him away, looking frustrated with herself. This continued for an hour, and in that time she still hadn't made a successful punch. He blocked every single one, not even breaking a sweat while Barbara's body was covered in it.

In one last attempt, she tried in vain to kick him, but he had dodged out of the way, grabbed her foot and swung her around. Once again, she landed with a thud on her back, gasping for air and feeling sweat drip down her forehead.

"Ok, I give up. You win."

Dick looked down at her, offering his hand to help her up. "Don't worry, it gets easier."

She took his hand, catching him off guard as she yanked it toward her. Dick lost his balance and would have fallen on top of her, had Barbara not lifted her knee, solidly colliding it with his gut, and using both her feet to flip him over her head.

He landed just as she had, on his back, with a _oof _escaping his lips. "Nice." He muttered, looking up at her as she loomed over him.

"Do I finally win this one?"

"Not quite." With one swipe of his arm, he knocked her feet from under her, and in one swift second he had pinned her to the ground.

"So we'll practice again tomorrow, same time."

"You mean the lessons or this position?"

He smirked. "You tell me."

It was nearly lunch when they were finished with all the practicing. When they both arrived at the dining hall, still sweating and in gym clothes, they were surprised to find Bruce at the head table, for the first time, arriving for lunch before them.

"Barbara, Dick you're just in time. Alfred just finished making the sandwiches." There were three placemats set up on either side of Bruce, where delicious looking subs sat waiting. Alfred was standing behind Bruce, a silver platter in his hands containing their drinks.

Quickly and quietly, the still-panting teens sat down across from each other and ate their meal silently until Bruce broke the silence. "So Barbara, I understand it'll be your birthday in a week."

Barbara chewed her food thoughtfully, glad that she tasted tofu instead of ham, which she saw visibly in Dick's sandwich. So much had been on her mind that she had forgotten her birthday.

"Yes, I'll be sixteen soon."

"Wonderful. So it's all settled."

"What is?"

"Your birthday party, of course."

"Party?"

"It was all Dick's idea, actually."

Barbara glanced up at Dick, who looked down quickly at his food. "Oh really?"

"Well, it's not really a party I suppose; it's more like a Ball. It'll be a fine opportunity for you to meet all my business co-workers and friends, and for them to meet you. We can even invite all your friends from your old school if you like."

Barbara flushed at the idea. She did miss her friends very much. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dick give a scowl.

"Are you up to it?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Good! Alfred can take it from here." Bruce got up off the table. "I have to be in a business meeting; I'll see you two at dinner."

As soon as Bruce was out of sight, Alfred addressed them curtly. "Please meet me in the Ballroom after you are finished eating and," he wrinkled his nose as he said so, "you have properly _cleaned_ yourselves."

Barbara took a sip of her water. "Why the ballroom?"

"For your dancing lessons."

She nearly choked. "What?"

"For the ball! Mistress Barbara, we must have you and Master Richard fully prepared in the art of dancing in only a week. We can not have you with two left feet on the night of the ball."

He left swiftly, not hearing the loud yelp from Dick as Barbara's foot collided with his shin.

**Hey guys! Sorry it's been a while. All my excuses for letting this story collect dust are lame, so I won't make any. I know this chapter is a little rushed, but I figured I owed you guys something after months of Genesis being un-updated. Look for more chapters soon, and thanks everyone for the reviews so far!**

**- Oracle**


	11. Chapter 10

"The first thing to remember is _rhythm_. One two three, one two three, and so on. You must also remember that a waltz goes counter-clockwise around the dance floor. It is a _traveling_ dance. Now, positions."

Both Barbara and Dick had cleaned up and were learning from Alfred a basic waltz dance.

Alfred motioned for Barbara to come to him. "The lady is always on the man's right side, like so," he gently moved Barbara to where she should have been standing, "and her right foot is pointed between his." Barbara did as he instructed, listening for more. "This prevents you from knocking into each other and causing the lady to get bruises, MASTER GRAYSON." Dick, who was looking out to the garden, was alerted and a little shocked at Alfred's tone and stern look. He mumbled "sorry" and Alfred continued.

"The gentleman's had rests on the lady's shoulder blade, like so, and his elbow is always up. The lady's hand should rest weightlessly on his arm." Barbara placed her left hand on his arm gently. "Good, Mistress Barbara. See? This isn't as difficult as you imagined."

Barbara smiled weakly.

"The lady's right hand and the gentleman's left should be joined, held up at the lady's eye level and between the two of them. Now Master Grayson, let's see how much you were paying attention."

"Huh?"

Alfred let go of Barbara, stepping off to the side. "Show me the dancing position for the waltz."

"Um…" Awkwardly, Dick moved closer to Barbara, putting his right hand on her waist. Barbara, although she would never admit it, was enjoying this closeness, but it was hard to when Alfred said "No, no no. On her _shoulder blade_, Master Richard; do not be a pig!"

With his cheeks flushing pink, Dick wordlessly moved his hand to Barbara's shoulder blade. Her skin prickled when his hand skimmed over it. "Be sure to have the correct feet position as well." Alfred instructed, as Barbara moved her right in between Dick's feet. "Very good. Correct hands as well…"

Both watched as their right and left hands interlocked. His hand felt warm in hers as she brought the hands close to her eye level.

"Excellent Miss Gordon. Now we will learn the basic step of the waltz: the box step. The lady moves her right foot back, while the gentleman moves forward with his left. LEFT, Master Richard! LEFT! Now the lady moves to _her_ left, gentleman to his right, followed by the other foot. On _two three_, step on your tip-toes, one foot at a time. One at a TIME, Master Grayson! Then the lady moves forward with her left, the man with his right, in the same step, creating a box."

Both teens stared at their feet, hoping they would do as they were instructed. It got easier when Alfred started counting out loud for them ("One two three, one two three").

"Now I want you both to stop looking at your feet, and look to your left, because that is the _proper _way to waltz. Master Grayson, the English Waltz is the quintessential venue of sophistication, and yet you have managed to make it look like a gestating rhinosaurus trying to stomp a rodent."

Alfred continued his chant of "one two three" until they heard soft, classic music start to play from the portable stereo Alfred had brought with him. Barbara was trying hard to not look at her feet, or at Dick, who was continually staring at her until Alfred gently slapped his head to the left. "LEFT, Master Grayson, how many times must I tell you?"

After that, the two barely spoke the rest of the lesson. They learned the waltz and practiced until they both had it down flat. Barbara lost count of how many times Dick had stepped on her toes, and of how many times he was yelled at by Alfred. After completing the box step perfectly for the first time, they were both surprised when Alfred dismissed them.

"That's it?" asked Barbara blankly.

"The rest of this is going to be independent study. I am expecting both of you to practice _together _once a day, starting tonight. That will be all…for _dancing. _Your agenda for the rest of the day, Miss Barbara, is picking out a dress for your ball."

"Already?" Barbara was surprised and impressed how far ahead Bruce had thought into this "party" idea.

"They have been being delivered as we have been practicing, and are awaiting you in your room."

"How many are there?"

"Nearly a dozen. Master Bruce wishes that you pick one out tonight as well."

Barbara suddenly felt overwhelmed. "Well I'm going to need some opinions."

"That is where Master Richard comes in handy."

Dick, who hadn't been paying attention was suddenly at attention at the mention of his name. "What? _Me_? What kind of opinion do you think I can give? I'm a guy, remember?"

"Yes, how could I forget?" muttered Alfred, "Master Bruce just wants you out of trouble for the day is all."

"How thoughtful of him." Dick said irritably.

"Wonderful. It's settled then."

Barbara was right to feel overwhelmed. Where to begin with all the dresses? She had never owned this many in her life! What color? Short or long? Halter or strapless? The possibilities were endless, and that was what made the job to pick just one even more impossible.

Dick was beyond bored. So far, all of the dresses he found revolting, which only made Barbara mad at him. He found it easiest to keep quiet.

They had been at this for over an hour now, and both were wishing it would end.

"I've narrowed it down to three; so I suppose you're happy, aren't you?" Barbara called from inside her closet where she was changing.

"I can't even begin to express my disappointment." Dick said sarcastically.

Barbara had finished slipping on the next dress, and looked at herself in the mirror hanging on the doorway. Her cheeks went strangely pink when she stepped out of the closet to show it to Dick.

He had been sitting on her bed, lazily, but suddenly sat up when she came out.

Maybe it was the vibrant blue of the fabric that seemed to hug her body in all the right places, and brought out the aqua of her eyes. But suddenly he wasn't seeing Barbara as he had before. It was in a new light, something he couldn't put his finger on. He cleared his throat and barely choked out, "That one is nice."

"Really?" She looked down, a grin on her face. "So should we just leave it at this one then?"

"Yeah lets."

She began to head back into the closet to change, before Dick said, "Hey wait a minute. Don't you think we should, you know, practice the dancing like Alfred said we should?"

"In my _dress_?"

"Well why not? You'll be in your dress at the ball anyway." He held out his hand to her.

"But there's no music."

"So? C'mon. Alfred will be glad we're doing our homework."

She hesitated, but then shrugged and took his hand in hers, as they began to waltz again.

It wasn't really what they had been taught. It was almost like a slow-dance, not really a waltz at all. It should have been awkward, the silent absence of music and the way Dick was looking into her eyes, and yet she felt comfortable with him holding her in the delicate way that he was. She didn't know how long they were dancing, it could have been only a minute or maybe an hour, but she was hoping it wouldn't end any time soon.

"I…I'm feeling a little dizzy." She was sure it was the intense way he was looking at her, but she of course didn't mention it.

"Yeah, me too. From all the spinning I guess. Maybe we should stop."

"We have stopped." She whispered.

They were close together, and if Alfred were here he would most likely be yelling at Dick's inability to dance 'correctly'. He took both her hands in his own, and it suddenly dawned on her that they were completely alone...

"Barbara…"

He was coming closer to her, and she panicked. Sure, they had always been a little flirty, but she never thought he would ever _like_ her. At least, not in the way she liked _him_. And here he was, inches away from…_kissing_ her!

Barbara didn't know whether to pull away or just stand there and let him. But right before he could, there came a knock at the door that made both of them jump.

"Master Grayson? Master Bruce is requiring your presence _downstairs_."

It was Alfred of course.

Dick let go of her hands, and even though he had pulled away Barbara was surprised to feel a little singe of disappointment.

"I gotta go." He totally shook it off, running a hand through his hair anxiously before heading out the door without even giving Barbara a second glance.

She flopped on her bed, trying to make her beating heart slow down a little. What was _that_? What would have happened had they not been interrupted? Did this mean that he liked her? If he liked her, why had he acted like nothing had happened by_ leaving_ like that?

She hugged her pillow and rolled her eyes. _Boys are so stupid._

**Oh my goodness! HI! It has been too long and I'm so sorry for that! Here's the story of why I finally updated this: I was in a Batgirl/Robin mood, and thought of how I wanted to write more in my spare time. Well now that it's summer, I have the time to do that :) Anyway, I was thinking about this story and how I never really finished it. I actually re-read the entire thing because I didn't really remember what happened! And honestly I'm not quite sure how I planned it to end. And then I remembered that I actually already wrote this chapter, and it just been sitting on my old computer collecting dust. So NOW, it's finally been submitted! Hooray!**

**I will update this again soon...when I think of how I want everything to end. It's hard because I started this when I was a freshman in high school and now I'm a sophomore in college. Time flies!  
Stay turned ;)**

**~Oracle**


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